Don't Let Go
by HateToSayIToldYouSo
Summary: Chapter 30 added! New cars, ninjas, and general overall awkwardness that leads up to a fight! Please read and review!
1. Default Chapter

So...here I go. I have a bunch of random bits that I'm kind of trying to twine together. So forgive me if this is a bit choppy. I'm just having a little fun, I suppose. This is inspired by my impatience regarding the new season. Please review! Even if you're going to tell me that I suck. Except please don't, unless you really feel you must because of some life-threatening disease. I know this has nothing on a bunch of other stories that I've been reading...but it's just me having some fun. So...enjoy! Or don't! Totally your call. ;) This is set in the present, meaning...the almost-fall after Seth left. So the majority of the first chapter is a flashback. Just in case I didn't make that clear, because it's late-ish and I can't really tell. So...thanks for reading, if you do, in fact, choose to continue reading after I spent thirty-seven years talking about myself.

xoxo

Chapter 1: In the Backyard

They had nothing to talk about but their failure as parents or the possible death of their son, so they didn't talk at all. It was easier that way; moving stealthily around each other as months passed. Everything seemed less real because they didn't sit down to dinner talking about it or stay up until four discussing possible outcomes. They both worked and developed unhealthy dependencies—Sandy's to sleeping pills and Kirsten's to coffee and under-ere concealer. They turned on their pleasant voices when Ryan called, made themselves sound like the desirable power-couple parents that he wanted them to be. Their link was missing, though, their real child, and after two weeks passed it became too hard to pretend that he was just on a little vacation. After three months it was virtually impossible, and both of them took to the discomfort of sleeping on their respective paper-littered desk.

Kirsten was the one to discover him missing. Sandy usually fielded the more emotional aspects of parenting—the pep talks, the lectures, the heartfelt conversations. She decided that it was her turn, though. As much as she liked to tell herself that she thought Seth needed her, she really went because she needed him. Her remaining son. She knocked on his door and waited. Nothing. She called out his name, knocked a few more times. Then she went in. His room was conspicuously empty. She ran a hand along the wall nearest his door, smoothed down a piece of tape on the corner of one of his posters. The neck of his guitar was dusty. When he was thirteen he learned how to play "Smells Like Teen Spirit" to a T—every note was perfect. His guitar had sat dormant ever since. His bed was made and she fingered the edge of his comforter. Then she saw the notes and her heart stopped beating, just for a second. "Mom and Dad". His handwriting looked so serious, so formal. This was not the same handwriting that was scrawled across Post-Its that he stuck to the kitchen counter; "New Legion today! Going down to the pier, save me some breakfast! Love, Seth". She sank down into his desk chair and tore off the back of the envelope. Fuck letter openers; her son was leaving her notes written with serious handwriting.

_ Mom and Dad,_

_ I don't really know what to say except that I'm sorry. I have to get away from this place for awhile because I know if I stay I'll just be miserable. I don't know where I'm going or what I'm going to do, but I'll figure it out. Don't worry about me. Dad's always talking about the world outside of Newport—I guess I have to go see what that's like. Please give the other letter to Summer and maybe try to put in a good word for me and convince her not to hate me. If Ryan calls, tell him I say hey and sorry for being suck a jackass. This has nothing to do with you guys and I want you to know that. I just need some time; that's really the only way I can think to explain it. _

_ I hope you won't hate me for doing this._

_ Love,_

_ Seth_

She got scared after reading the first line; the cold, shuddery scared that made her hands shake holding the paper. By the end she was a mess, on the verge of vomiting, and she jumped up and shook out her hands and bit her lip and tried to regulate her breathing. Her first instinct, she was sorry to admit, was to hate Seth with such intensity that she went blind. This lasted exactly three seconds and was replaced with overwhelming sadness.

"Sandy," she called out, but her voice was so hoarse that he didn't hear her. She bounced on her heels a few times, hating feeling so useless. "Sandy!" The second time he heard her from downstairs in the kitchen.

"Yeah, hon?" He was sitting there, reading the newspaper and trying to put his current situation into perspective. There were many worse things going on in the world, he tried to tell himself. Ryan would get through this, and so would the rest of them. "Sweetie, I'm in the kitchen!" he called up, in case she was looking.

"Sandy!" The third call was more of distressed yelp and he stood up, concerned. They met halfway on the stairs and her trembling hands offered him the note. She gripped the banister as he read and when he finished, he sank down onto the step he was standing on.

"Fuck."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His wife was a fucking zombie. He watched her drift through her life like a ghost, cry sometimes when she thought he was asleep, throw back a shot of vodka every once in awhile. He came home to find her awake one night, a rare occurrence in the past few months.

"Hey," he said quietly as he undressed.

"Hi," she replied, trying to smile. Married seventeen years and the awkwardness between them closely resembled that of a blind date. He crawled in next to her and put his arms around her, kissing her neck. He hadn't been there in forever. He loved how she smelled and how her hair felt against his face. She pulled away. "Sandy."

"Why not?" he asked, sounding four and not giving a damn.

"I can't," she said. "I just want to go to sleep."

"Kirsten, you haven't let me touch you in three months."

"I can't," she mumbled again.

"Yes, you can! You're there for work and you're there for Ryan and...Seth, and, God, honey, Seth's not even here. And I'm here and I need you to be here for me."

"I can't feel," she whispered, feeling ridiculous and melodramatic. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore."

"Then let me be here for you," he said quietly. "We can't keep living like this."

"Can we talk about this later?" she asked wearily. He sighed, moved away.

"Yeah."

In the backyard  
In the garden  
You were always there  
Digging down where roots would burrow underneath  
Now the grass is always overgrown  
And the weeds are choking out the sun  
Pretty soon they'll come under the door  
And you don't care

In the backyard  
In the garden  
Almost nothing left  
Just some pieces of the roots that once dug in  
And the grass is always overgrown  
And the weeds are choking out the sun  
Why do you still come home anymore when you don't care?

--Guster, "Backyard"


	2. Rock Hard Times

Chapter 2: Rock Hard Times

The good news was that the residential division of the Newport Group was doing better than it ever had before. This factor was unfortunately outweighed by the bad news that her life as she knew it was gone. The pictures from her desk were noticeably absent—Sandy holding a five-year-old Seth upside-down by the ankles, Ryan and Seth at the office Christmas party, her favorite picture ever of her and Seth when he was about ten. She had put them in a drawer and opened it to view them on occasion, but that was their only role. She didn't want people asking who the adorable upside-down boy was because she wouldn't know how to answer. She signed her name on a check and sat back, sighing. It was about nine-thirty, which would have been late for Old Kirsten, but for New, Workaholic, Husband-Avoidance Kirsten it was nothing. Julie Cooper was apparently unaware of this when she came creeping into the office, clutching a gift bag. Kirsten watched, amused, as Julie made her entrance backwards and carefully closed the door behind her.

"Julie?" Julie yelped and dropped the bag.

"Kirsten! What are you doing here?"

"I'm working," Kirsten gestured to the papers on her desk. "What's your excuse?"

"I was just...why are you here so late?"

"I have a lot to do," Kirsten lied.

"Oh. Sandy doesn't mind?" Kirsten smiled tightly and shrugged. Julie gave her an exaggerated wink. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?"

"So they say," she replied unenthusiastically, though she had to hand it to Julie. She was the only person who didn't tiptoe around Kirsten these days. She still made her weird sex jokes and used words like "terriff!" (most certainly with an exclamation mark). While these were not redeeming qualities, they relaxed Kirsten when everyone else around her avoided eye contact. "What's in the bag?" She couldn't help but be curious. Julie's gifts were always interesting.

"Oh! Well, it was supposed to be a surprise. I had this whole thing planned out. But then you ruined it, so I guess..." Julie handed over the bag.

"Thanks. It's heavy."

"I hope nothing broke," Julie remarked, anxiously trying to peer past the tissue paper.

"It's not my birthday," Kirsten said warily.

"I know!"

"What's the occasion?" she asked, studying the bag.

"Well, I noticed that you didn't have any pictures up in your office. And at first I thought maybe you were trying to...have a little fun. Sexy, single businesswoman thing, maybe have a fling or two with one of those Chicago guys? But then I saw that you still have your wedding ring, and I guess it's possible that you're just ignorant in the field of infidelity...but you're really not ignorant about anything, so I decided that it was time to do sprucing!" Kirsten stared at her blankly. "You're not trying to hook up with Chicago guys, are you?"

"No."

"On with the sprucing, then!"

"And whatever is in this bag...will spruce," Kirsten processed skeptically.

"If you're not going to open it, I will!" Julie grabbed the bag and removed a succession of flat wrapped rectangles. She pulled the paper off the first one and held it up proudly. "Wedding pictures!" Kirsten's heartbeat quickened at the sight of a photo of Ryan and Seth in their groomsmen tuxes.

"Oh..."

"Now, I know it's a little...you know, whatever, but..." Julie sat down and folded her hands, seeming to soften. "You've gotta miss seeing them. If you don't want them up we can just—,"

"No, Julie, it's...it's really nice. Thanks."

"We're not done! You look really hot in this one, if I do say so myself. If my husband weren't your father I would be totally jealous." Kirsten held onto the picture of her with her father, smiling slightly at Julie's candor. "The family," Julie continued, handing over a picture of Kirsten, Sandy, Seth, and Ryan. "That little juvenile delinquent cleans up nicely for someone from Chino." Kirsten rolled her eyes and then studied the photo. She was leaning slightly against Seth and holding hands with Sandy, who had his arm casually around Ryan's shoulder. She smiled. "You guys look so perfect it's sickening," Julie commented.

"Thank you. I think."

"One more! This is, like, the perfect picture. I don't know who took it, but they should get promoted. Where they were when Cal and I were dancing, I'd like to know." Kirsten recognized the connection that she and Sandy were making in the photo; she was all too familiar with the knowing smile she was giving him. His arms were around her waist and she remembered, now, feeling like they were the only people there. She missed this more than she thought was physically possible.

"Thanks, Julie, it's...I don't know what to say."

"Say that you feel like going out and getting drunk with me!" Kirsten smirked and shook her head.

"Not tonight."

"Kiki! You need to get out and live a little!"

"I was hoping I could make it through my life without someone ever telling me to 'live a little'."

"It's true! You've been working 24/7 and you have completely discontinued the color green from your wardrobe!"

"Don't say '24/7'."

"Kirsten! This is a serious issue. Green is a happy color! It makes you happy! Green is the new pink! And I haven't seen it on you in months!"

"I wear green," she said defensively.

"No, Kiki, you don't," Julie replied with more gravity than the subject deserved. "He's a teenage boy. They all think that they have these big, serious lives and they have to do things like this to create drama so they seem more important."

"He's been gone for three months," Kirsten said quietly.

"And he'll be back in time for homecoming! Just come and have a few drinks with me! This is not the end of the world."

"I have to go," Kirsten said, standing up and getting her purse. "Thanks for the pictures, Julie. Have a good night." She left the well-intentioned woman standing in her darkened office and locked herself in her car and cried. Just a little bit, because she missed the marriage that she saw in that picture. And a little more because Ryan did clean up nicely. And then she cried a lot, because she knew that this was no teenage rebellion and Seth had never been one for school functions.

They told me that I couldn't come back here again  
Took me for some kind of fool  
Said I was doing things that never should be done  
But I don't care about their rules  
  
As if I cared about the little minds  
In the little heads of the herd  
There's nothing you could dream  
Would be more absurd  
  
And everybody knows these are rock hard times  
I gotta make it through  
These are rock hard times  
  
I don't know what it is they're trying to do to me  
Make me into some sick joke  
But no one's laughing  
And least of all not me  
It's hard to laugh as you choke  
  
Hollywood lies piled up to the sky  
Floating your way soon  
Hope you like the rotten stench of doom  
  
And everybody knows these are rock hard times  
I gotta make it through  
These are rock hard times  
  
I don't know what it is they think I'm gonna try  
They don't know what they need to fear  
The surest sign that the end is coming soon  
Is right there in the bathroom mirror  
  
And everybody knows these are rock hard times  
I gotta make it through  
These are rock hard times  
These are rock hard times

--The Eels, "Rock Hard Times"

Okay, so I know this song is kind of lame and kind of irrelevant...but if you've heard it, you know that it's really quite a sad song and I thought it to be fitting. I don't know. I just love the Eels with a heated passion. So there you have it. Let me know your thoughts on the first 2 chapters. Don't hold back! There's more to come if you want it to come...;)

xoxo


	3. Drown

So, hey, I'm back. Which...really is not all that exciting. But I'm making this more structured, I think...I hope. Sort of have a plot going on, which is always nice. Unless it sucks. And this might. So let me know! Drop a review or two! ;) Princess Oats 435, I'm right there with you about loving Guster. I'm in a bit of a jealous rage that you've seen them live. ;) And thanks for the lovely review! ;)

Enjoy! Or don't. Totally your call.

xoxo

Chapter 3: Drown

He was bored out of his mind reading through a file when Ryan called.

"Hey, kid! It's great to hear from you! How's life?" This was not fake. His enthusiasm was so real that he almost felt embarrassed by it. Almost.

"It's..."

"Totally insane? I remember when Kirsten was pregnant with Seth...it was the strangest experience in the entire world. But you're going to have so many cool moments, I promise. Heartbeat...first sonograms...it's so worth it. Kirsten wanted to kill me eighty percent of the time, but god...when Seth was born it was so worth it. You think you won't make it and then—,"

"Sandy..."

"Sorry, am I rambling? Reversed genetic trait, I guess. Acquired. I mean, I rambled before Seth rambled...but not nearly as much. And now look at me."

"No. I mean, you were, but that's okay. I mean...you can..."

"Spit it out, Atwood," Sandy said, smiling.

"Teresa miscarried." His face fell.

"Oh, no."

"Just...I don't know why. Yesterday."

"Oh, man, Ryan. I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, I just...uh...I thought I should tell you."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah. She's actually...relieved, I think."

"It's a difficult situation. How about you? You holding up okay?"

"Yeah. I mean...you know, it might not even have been mine."

"Still, though. You made an emotional investment. That's not nothing, Ryan."

"I'm fine." Ryan paused. "Any word from Seth?"

"No," Sandy said quietly. "He hasn't gotten in touch with you, has he?"

"I would tell you."

"I know."

"How's Kirsten?" Sandy sighed and refrained from telling Ryan that he hadn't had sex in three months.

"Not great," he replied. "You should give her a call. I bet she'd love to hear from you."

"Okay," Ryan agreed, but was fairly certain that he wouldn't actually do so. The last few times he had called Kirsten he had started crying, and had to lie and tell her that he had to go so she wouldn't hear him.

"How's work going?" Sandy asked, though what he really wanted to do was beg Ryan to come home. He couldn't do that. Ryan was too chivalrous to abandon Teresa, and though Sandy greatly respected him for it, he couldn't help but wish otherwise just so 'the pool house' would become 'Ryan's room' again.

"It's okay. I've got a few days off next week, so that should be nice." Ryan, paradoxically, was dying to beg Sandy to let him move back in. Teresa's mother was convinced that the miscarriage was his fault and had kicked him out of the house yesterday. Last night was spent in a place called the Desperado Motel. Things were not looking up. "How are you doing?" he asked awkwardly.

"Eh," Sandy said, feigning nonchalance. "I'm fine. Just...you know, going through the motions."

"Huh." Ryan hated hearing him like this, missed his weird sense of humor and his kind mockery. It was weird to know that he was partially the cause of this, that people cared about him enough that his absence made them drastically change. Of course, the majority of their changes in personality were because of Seth, he thought, but he still felt horribly guilty.

"Well, what are your plans for the weekend?" Sandy asked, sounding tired.

"The—uh, I hadn't really thought about it." Upon thinking about it, he realized that the answer to the question would involve sitting on the mysteriously stained bed at the Desperado watching fuzzy local access. "Nothing, I guess."

"Well, could we come see you, maybe? Kirsten and I? We could drive up early, have some lunch. You could show us around. We could meet Teresa's mother, maybe bring Teresa some flowers or something. Kirsten's good at that...at get-wells and cheering up. What do you say? We haven't seen you all summer, kid. We miss you."

"I miss you guys, too," he mumbled hoarsely.

"So are we on for...Saturday? I bet I can drag Kirsten away from her desk if you're involved."

"Yeah, I don't...I don't think this weekend would be the best."

"Oh." Sandy couldn't help but feel wounded. "Okay. You pick, then. Give us a time and a place."

"Sure. It might not be for awhile, though. Because of work and everything,"

"I thought you had a vacation coming up."

"Oh. Yeah, I do. I just—,"

"Ryan, do you not want us to come?" Sandy asked quietly.

"No!" Ryan's voice cracked. He wasn't going to guilt Sandy into asking him back to Newport. He couldn't do that. "It's with Teresa and her mom."

"Complicated how?" Boxed into a corner, Ryan sighed.

"Complicated like Teresa's mom kicked me out last night."

"What? Why?"

"She thinks that it was my fault. That I stressed Teresa into...I don't know. She thinks that I wasn't working enough."

"Seventy hours a week isn't working enough?" Sandy said incredulously.

"She's just upset," Ryan muttered.

"That's not okay, Ryan. That's nowhere near okay. Where are you staying?"

"A motel."

"Ryan! Why didn't you tell me? Give me the address. I'm coming to get you."

"No, Sandy, it's fine. I'm already looking for an apartment."

"Why? Why would you even think of looking for an apartment when you know you'll always have a place to stay here?"

"I walked out," Ryan said softly. "I left you guys after all that you did for me...and I didn't even come back after I heard that Seth left. I'm not going to come back just because things didn't work out for me. I don't deserve it."

"Of course you deserve it!" Sandy protested, and couldn't help but think that Ryan deserved it more than Seth did. He didn't say this aloud. "Ryan, you had to go. You made a responsible decision and you took charge in a strange situation. You're our kid now, Ryan. You're always going to deserve it."

"You guys have enough to deal with."

"Right now part of what we're dealing with is the fact that you aren't home."

"You and Kirsten want your son back," Ryan said. "I don't want you to have to deal with me."

"Please come home, Ryan," Sandy said sincerely, resorting to beggary despite his attempts not to.

"Why?" Ryan was frustrated, feeling like crying again and hating himself for it.

"Because Kirsten and I want our sons back. Both of them."

No matter where you are  
I can still hear you when you drown  
You've traveled very far  
Just to see you I'll come around  
When I'm down  
All of those yesterdays  
Coming around  
  
No matter where you are  
I can still hear you when you dream  
You traveled very far  
You traveled far, like a star  
And you are  
All of those yesterdays  
Coming around  
--Smashing Pumpkins, "Drown"


	4. The Big Idea

Chapter 4: The Big Idea

When she arrived home from work she heard video game music coming from the den. She softly accused herself of being crazy and started to go upstairs. Suddenly, though, she heard a quiet but distinct "Hi-YA!" and she felt momentarily faint. Sandy didn't play video games. Seth did.

"Seth?" she called out quietly. The music from the game stopped. "Seth?" She neared the den.

"No, Kirsten, it's me." Sandy was sitting on the couch with a controller in his hand and she felt horribly disappointed and embarrassed at the same time.

"Sorry," she muttered, and he offered her a sad smile.

"Me too." She couldn't help but smile back, thanking god that she was married to him and he was willing to take small steps with her. "I have a surprise for you." He was unsuccessfully fighting off a grin and she was confused by his cheerfulness. This was the man she had barely spoken to in the last week. The man who she pushed away when he tried to kiss her. The man who was so fucking frustrated with her that sometimes he slept at work.

"What?" she asked uncertainly. He held out two fists.

"Pick a hand." She laughed, confused.

"Uh...left." He showed her his empty left palm. "Okay, right." He made a big show of finding nothing in his other hand.

"Damn. I must have left it in the living room." She rolled her eyes.

"Worst surpriser ever."

"You know...why don't you go see for me. You've always been better at keeping track of things." She took a tentative step towards the living room and glanced warily back at him. "Go see for yourself." He grinned, shaking his head. "'Worst surpriser ever'," he mused. "You're going to eat your words, honey."

"What are you doing, Sandy?" she asked cagily.

"I'm surprising you." She stared at him doubtfully and he gestured towards the living room. "Go, go...the suspense is killing me." She took a few steps, then spun around.

"Just give me a hint. So I can prepare."

"It's not a stray puppy," he replied. She shot him one last glance and then bravely entered the living room. She wasn't sure what to expect but absolutely nothing could have prepared her for what was waiting there. Ryan stood up, his hands jammed in his pockets.

"Hi, Kirsten," he said softly, and his voice cracked slightly, evidence of the fact that he was much more excited than he appeared.

"Ryan..." She paused, unsure, taking him in, then breathed a sigh of what sounded like relief and threw her arms around him. "What are you doing here? Are you staying? How long have you been here? Did you drive?" She took a breath to calm herself down. "How are you, sweetie?"

"I'm good." He suddenly felt shy. "How are you?"

"A lot better than I was a few minutes ago," she laughed in spite of herself. "Are you here for good?"

"I...I'm just..."

"He's here for good," Sandy confirmed from the doorway.

"If that's okay with you," Ryan said quickly.

"Oh, Ryan, it's more than okay with me," she said, and turned to face Sandy. "I'm eating my words."

"What'd I tell you?" He laughed. "Good plan, right? We had to race around a little. We were playing Grand Theft Auto and we heard you come in and we decided to pull a fast one on you."

"You succeeded," Kirsten admitted, smiling. "It's so good to see you," she said, focusing back on Ryan. "What are you doing here?" she asked again.

"Long story," Ryan said, and she nodded.

"You want to tell me in the morning?"

"Yeah."

"You're going to be here in the morning," she mused, giddy. She hugged him again. "I missed you so much, Ryan." He barely managed to choke out a "you, too" as he hugged her back.

You're getting something  
Cause I'm getting something  
Right across to you  
The big idea  
When I see you  
Involves no one else  
My head and heart are here for you  
And I know you feel it too

You keep believing  
And I'll keep believing  
What you want to do

--The Special Goodness, "The Big Idea"

So there are two more for you. ;) Please review and let me know what you think! I know the song selection is a little weird, but...I don't know. I was drawing a blank. Several, actually. Anyways...there's more to come. Perhaps Sandy will be "getting some", as requested...you never know. ;) Please let me know your thoughts! Thanks for reading!

xoxo


	5. For No One

Hey there! I'm back! Sorry to try and make that sound like an exciting event. Because it definitely isn't. Regardless, I have returned, and with me I have brought two new chapters...two new, weird, highly melodramatic chapters with more inappropriate kissing than is probably acceptable. You guys are great reviewers, also, and I really appreciate it! You're awesome!

Princess Oats 435: You totally kick ass! Thanks for the detailed review! And I totally loved hearing your Guster story! I just watched a video of them covering the Violent Femmes and I absolutely fell in love—they're a very charismatic bunch! Anyways, your reviews are awesome and I thank you for the input! ;)

Also, I hate to disappoint, but all sex enthusiasts are going to have to wait awhile longer to Sandy to "get some". I am warning you ahead of time that said action does not occur in the latest 2 chapters. Please don't throw rocks at me. I'm trying not to rush things. Plus, overly dramatic controversy is exceptionally fun to write. So please review again! Keep up the good work! I hope you guys like this and aren't too turned off by a.) the lack of "getting some" or b.) the totally outlandish plotline.

Yay! You rock!

xoxo

Chapter 5: For No One

She went to check on Ryan; it was late and she decided to make this her new thing: regularly verifying that he hadn't run away. It was uncharacteristic, but, then again, that's what she would have said about Seth. The pool house was clearly Ryan-free and her heartbeat quickened. It was his first night back. He couldn't already be sick of them. She looked on the floor next to her and saw his shoes, his boots that he refused to dispose of. If Ryan went far, those would go with him. Five minutes later, she was standing over him on the beach, her right hand offering him an open Corona. He glanced up, amused.

"Despite Seth's constant jabs at my age, I have a pretty clear recollection of seventeen. It wasn't that long ago...and one beer wasn't that big of a deal." She sat next to him and took a sip of her own beer.

"Thanks," he mumbled, taking an awkward swig.

"That's not to say I want you out bingeing on weekends," she countered.

"I wouldn't. I don't," he said quickly. She smiled.

"I know."

"Sorry I took off without letting you guys know. I just needed some air," he explained, gesturing slightly around him.

"This is good air," she nodded.

"How did you know where I was?"

"You have a lot on your mind, I'm sure." She shrugged. "Thinking works well out here."

"I'll leave a note or something if I go anywhere else. Sorry."

"Sorry I'm neurotic and obsessed with your whereabouts," she smiled slightly.

"Hey, do whatever you need to do."

"Thanks," she smiled. "You too. As long as it doesn't involve...criminal activity or tattooing."

"Scout's honor." Ryan flashed a hand signal and Kirsten laughed.

"You were a boy scout?"

"For a year. I was nine."

"Huh."

"I got kicked out," he admitted after a minute.

"You're kidding!"

"I wish."

"What could a nine-year-old do that would be bad enough to get him kicked out of boy scouts?"

"I accidentally set our troop leader on fire." There was a stunned silence, and then she laughed. Actual, happy laughter. It felt fantastic.

"Oh my god, that's...so not funny. That's horrible! But at the same time..."

"Kind of funny." Ryan smirked.

"Really funny," Kirsten agreed guiltily. "Was he okay?"

"Oh yeah. His vest was a lost cause, but the rest of him was fine."

"You set fire to the vest of a boy scout leader."

"Not on purpose." Kirsten dropped her head, still laughing.

"That's the best story I've heard in...a very long time."

"I'm glad my childhood failure amuses you."

"I stole a boat once," she admitted after a moment.

"You're a boat thief?" he asked, grinning.

"I suppose I am. Albeit, it was my dad's boat, and I brought it back. Jimmy Cooper and I...when we were seventeen, we took it to Catalina and spent three days there. Then my father send the Coast Guard after us." She sighed. "Which is why is worries me so much that Seth is by himself. If Summer was with him...I mean, I know that if she was I would be worried, too, because...Seth is Seth and..." she blushed, trailing off. "But at least I would know that he was just going out to have a little fun with his girlfriend. Not...whatever it is he's doing now."

"Seth's great with his boat," Ryan offered.

"Not that great."

"He's going to come home, Kirsten." She shook her head.

"God, I hope so."

"Look, Kirsten...this is obviously a lot to deal with. And I know that Sandy didn't talk to you about this at all. If you want me to leave, I'll understand." She gently touched his shoulder.

"Ryan, I didn't know it was possible to feel as happy as I felt when I saw that you were home." Ryan felt tears in his eyes and part of him hated Kirsten for having the ability to make him cry. He coughed brusquely.

"Thanks."

Thank you." She was feeling a little uncomfortable, too, and leaned back on her arms, obviously changing the subject. "So, I know that we said we were going to discuss this in the morning, but since we're on the subject of you being home and neither of us appears to be very tired...you want to tell me the 'long story' now?" He shrugged, looking away.

"Sure."

It's been a long and a sad goodbye  
For hellos and handshakes, kisses and lies  
Ask me that you'd like to know me well  
Well you already have  
You already do  
Nobody does, nobody does  
I guess it says something for you

-Ryan Adams, "For No One"


	6. Lost Cause

Chapter 6: Lost Cause

When he told her what happened with Teresa she offered quiet condolences and retreated to her bedroom, where she sat on her bed and felt partially responsible for the way Ryan was feeling. She had even more reason to wish that she had talked Teresa into having an abortion. Sandy was thrashing around next to her, but instead of retreating to one of the guest rooms she laid down next to him and held his hand to calm him down. It was something that surprisingly always worked.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sandy was working and Ryan ducked his head in and told her that he was going to visit Marissa, so she was home alone. The house to herself again. Except now it didn't feel quite so unbearable. She had taken the day off, and after an hour was bored out of her mind. She had never been more excited to hear the phone ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Kirsten." She hadn't spoken to Jimmy Cooper since he and Hailey had broken up two months before.

"Jimmy, hi." She couldn't help but be excited, sitting down at the kitchen table and biting back a smile. "How are you?"

"I'm good. I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm...Ryan's home!" This made perfect sense to her.

"Really? That's great."

"He's actually with Marissa right now."

"No...he isn't."

"What do you mean?"

"Marissa's in New Hampshire," Jimmy explained slowly, sounding hoarse. "She...she hit a rough patch. With her drinking. She's spending six months there. Rehab and boarding school."

"Oh, my god, Jimmy. I'm so sorry. When did this...when did she...I mean, were you..."

"Two weeks ago. Julie found her passed out in the hot tub."

"Oh, god." That, Kirsten realized, explained Julie's little speech about teenage drama. She was avoiding teenage drama of her own. "She's going to be okay?"

"She could have drowned," Jimmy said with his ironic laughter. "I don't know. The place is supposed to be...good. Really good. Best in the country. So we'll see."

"I'm sorry, Jimmy."

"Hey, what about you? Any word from—,"

"Not yet."

"Oh, Kirsten, he—,"

"You want to go get some coffee?" she asked, fully certain that she couldn't tolerate another uninformed person assuring her that her son wasn't dead.

"God, yeah. That's why I was calling. You want to meet at the pier? Go for a walk? Like old times?" Kirsten was not fond of references to 'old times', but she agreed, and an hour later she was meeting Jimmy on the pier. He hugged her when he saw her and it felt good, she decided. They could bond over their fucked-up children. She mentally cursed herself for associating 'Seth' and 'fuck', and Jimmy must have noticed her dismay because he put a casual arm around her as they walked along.

"So, how're you doing?" She shrugged, discreetly moving out of his grasp.

"I'm fine."

"You heard from Hailey lately?"

"She went to Tokyo right after you guys broke up."

"She didn't stick around? Because of Seth?"

"I don't need a babysitter," she said this more lightly than she would have liked to.

"But Ryan's back," Jimmy said, sensing her touchiness. "That's fantastic."

"It is," she nodded.

"He's a good kid."

"Yeah."

"I feel bad that I wasn't the one to tell him about Marissa. Julie can be..."

"Julie," Kirsten completed, smiling slightly. "It's not your fault. I feel like I should have known. I'm a little surprised that I didn't know," she said pointedly.

"I was too...messed up to call you. I've been a wreck for a month. I'm finally regaining composure. I didn't want you to see me...like I was."

"Well, I'm glad you finally called me." She wasn't going to lecture him because she had done the same thing. Sandy could see her with streaked mascara and one of Seth's t-shirts, but Jimmy Cooper couldn't, because there would always be something about him.

"So am I." He smiled at her and she felt claustrophobic even though the ocean stretched out for miles just feet away from her. "How's Sandy been doing?" She sighed and rubbed her arms.

"He's Sandy. He has the ability to make everything seem okay."

"Is that...a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good thing," she answered quickly, and saw more truth in it the more she considered it. Even though he probably kind of hated her, Sandy made everything hurt just a little bit less.

"Yeah, well, that's good," Jimmy said. "It's good that something like this...I mean, it really says something about a marriage if it can withstand what you guys are going through."

"I guess."

"You guess?"

"It's hard," she admitted.

"The way you hold up during times like these...I think it's amazing. It's really admirable." An uncomfortable silence settled over them and Jimmy awkwardly clapped his hands. "So, Hailey," he said. "I've been wanting to talk to you about Hailey."

"As if there isn't enough drama," Kirsten smirked, rolling her eyes. "What about her?"

"I never really...apologized."

"Why would you need to apologize?"

"She's your little sister, Kirsten." Kirsten waved an indifferent hand.

"It's over and done."

"But it was totally disrespectful to you. We have such a history and for me to just—,"

"I'm married, Jimmy. You can date whoever you want. It was twenty years ago. If I was still holding onto that, there would be something seriously wrong with me."

"It's just..." he laughed, looking embarrassed. "Forget it. Julie was right."

"Right about what?" She stopped walking to look at him, noticed that he was blushing and deliberately looking away.

"Transference," he said with a sigh.

"What do you mean?" He looked down at her.

"I was with Hailey because I couldn't be with you." This was spoken with such sincerity, such affection, that for a moment she was back in high school and she didn't notice that anything was wrong when he took her head in his hands and kissed her. She quickly came to her senses, though, and pulled away.

"Oh, my god." She couldn't believe this. "Again. You did this...again. God. What the hell are you...do you think, ever?" She turned and left him there, feeling sick and unclean and wrong. Because for a split second there, she was kissing him back.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time she got home she had regained composure. When she pulled into the driveway she vigorously rubbed the lipstick off of her mouth and reapplied it, ridding herself of any and all traces of Jimmy Cooper. She felt vile. He hadn't chased after her, but three messages were waiting on her cell phone. She promptly deleted them without listening and went inside to the kitchen.

"Ryan?" she called out, wondering if and when he had found out about Marissa. The lights were on in the pool house and so she went out to check on him. She started to open the door. "Ryan, honey, I just heard about—,"

Of course he couldn't just be sitting there. Reading a comic book, maybe, or playing video games. No. Because that would just be too normal. Too okay. Things, apparently, were not allowed to go okay for Kirsten these days. That, she decided, was why Ryan was lying on his bed, making out with Summer. Summer screamed and Ryan leapt off of the bed and Kirsten felt horribly nauseous and quickly closed the door again. Ryan was not kissing her son's girlfriend. Ryan was not kissing her son's girlfriend. Ryan was not kissing her son's girlfriend.

"Um, hi, Mrs. Cohen. I haven't seen you in awhile." Summer was standing behind her. Ryan was kissing her son's girlfriend.

"Hi, Summer," Kirsten whispered. She'd always liked Summer. So much.

"Sorry. About that. About...um...sorry. I love your purse. Is that Kate Spade?" Kirsten didn't answer. "Right," Summer chirped. "I'm really sorry. I'm gonna go. Nice to see you." She walked away quickly and Kirsten sensed Ryan standing behind her. She didn't turn around, staring over into the pool.

"Kirsten, I—,"

"Yeah. No. I'm just...going to go inside."

"Kirsten, let me—," She spun around to face him.

"You could have any girl in Newport, Ryan. Why did you have to choose my son's girlfriend?" He almost cringed because the word 'son' had such an edge to it. Seth was her son. Ryan wasn't. "This is just what you do, then? Take your pick with whatever girl you feel like being with? He loves her, Ryan. That's the only girl he's ever loved. He sees you as his brother. You couldn't take that into consideration for a second?" And there it was again. Hit him like an anvil. Ryan was the recluse. The juvenile felon staying in the pool house. The day his mother had left him with the Cohens, Kirsten had turned to him and clasped her hands together.

"I don't know how much of a 'real mom' I am, Ryan, but I'd like a shot if you'd like to give me one."

He had given her one and she had taken it and they had clicked. And now she was walking inside, away from him, and he knew that it was ruined.

Your sorry eyes cut through bone  
They make it hard to leave you alone  
Leave you here wearing your wounds  
Waving your guns at somebody new  
Baby you're lost  
Baby you're lost  
Baby you're a lost cause  
  
There's too many people you used to know  
They see you coming  
They see you go  
They know your secrets and you know theirs  
This town is crazy  
Nobody cares  
  
Baby you're lost  
Baby you're lost  
Baby you're a lost cause

I'm tired of fighting  
I'm tired of fighting  
Fighting for a lost cause

--Beck, "Lost Cause"

Okay! See what I mean about the melodrama? So...I tried! Did I fail miserably? Let me know; leave me a review! ;) Thanks for reading!

xoxo


	7. Rest Easy

Oh...guess who's back? Unfortunately, it's just me. Anyways, thanks for the reviews! You guys are awesome!

bugg: You, my friend, are very perceptive. The title of this story does, indeed, belong to Rivers and the gang. I did sort of a Turquoise Album revival—meaning I pulled out the Blue Album for a few days, and then decided that it had been far too long since I had listened to the Green Album, so I listened to that, too. I looove Weezer. I think "Don't Let Go" might be used in a future chapter.

Princess Oats 435: I, too, am a dropout girl scout. I never really warmed to the whole vest/unfortunate hat concept. Plus, at our first picnic I refused to participate in a pie fight because I was wearing a new outfit. (Oddly, though...the outfit that I was so concerned about preserving? Burberry culottes. I'm not even kidding. They were a hideous, hideous article of clothing.) Everyone thought that I was a snob and nobody would sit with me on the bus. So I refused to endure being shunned by a bunch of lames in brown vests. And that is my story. And, ouch, sorry you set your hair on fire. I bet it smelled bad. Did it smell bad? Once my dad and I set a towel on fire when we were trying to make dinner. That's my fire story. Thanks for the awesome review! Sorry I stalk you. ;)

Okay. And here we go again. I kind of suck, don't I? This is sort of lame. Let me know your thoughts. You've been so awesome so far, all of you. Thanks a bunch. ;)

xoxo

Chapter 7: Rest Easy

She knew that she had to tell Sandy about Jimmy, but first she had to tell him about Ryan. And Summer. It was all far too complicated and when Sandy came home from work he found her throwing back four Excedrin.

"That must be some headache," he commented lightly from the doorway. She jumped, then smiled guiltily.

"You have absolutely no idea." He furrowed his brow, came over and gave her an awkward kiss on the cheek.

"What's going on?" She poured him a glass of wine, gestured to a chair at the island, and they sat down next to each other.

"I saw something today that I definitely wasn't supposed to see. Because it...definitely was not supposed to be happening."

"Oh, God...Julie and Caleb having sex?"

"What? Augh, no. Thanks for that visual, though. God, I think I need a few more pills..." Sandy smiled, basking in the casual pleasance of their conversation. They hadn't spoken like this in ages.

"What, then?"

"Ryan and Summer," Kirsten said with a sigh, glancing behind her to make sure Ryan was still hiding out in the pool house.

"No!" Sandy said, incredulous. "Man, that kid gets around."

"Thank you for that mature, adult response." She rolled her eyes. "Sandy, this is Seth's girlfriend we're talking about. This isn't supposed to happen!"

"Is she Seth's girlfriend?" Sandy asked. "I mean...we didn't read the letter...but a kid picks up and leaves, doesn't call for three months...that's not exactly a step in the right direction as far as relationships go."

"I don't know."

"And can we really blame her? If I took off and completely abandoned you...which I would never do, of course, but theoretically, if I were to do that, I couldn't exactly expect you to be faithful. It wouldn't be fair."

"It just felt so wrong," she said quietly. "His girlfriend, his best friend. I don't get how Ryan could do that to him."

"Well, how did it come about? Did she come over here, or...did he invite her?"

"They were in the pool house when I got home."

"Oh, god, you were out shopping? Please tell me there isn't a charity event this weekend. I'll kill myself, Kirsten, really."

"No. I wasn't shopping." Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He was going to do it. He was going to ask, and she was going to have to tell him.

"Oh. Where were you?" He was casual, unsuspecting. She put on her most neutral tone to reply.

"Jimmy called. We went for coffee."

"Huh." He sounded a little pissed off, but not too. She had to tell him. She had to.

"Marissa's in rehab." She had to, but not right now.

"Poor kid. She's got a lot going on. How's Jimmy doing?"

"He..." 'Kissed me,' Kirsten almost said. "He's okay. You know. Considering." Tired of the subject, Sandy switched back.

"Well, did you talk to Ryan about it?"

"Not rationally, I'm afraid." Sandy looked at her curiously. "I sort of...lost it."

"Aw, Kirsten..."

"Seth could be dead, Sandy!" she snapped, saying what they had both been avoiding. "And Ryan's been home for less than twenty-four hours and he's already hooking up with his girlfriend?" Hearing Kirsten actually admit the concern aloud made him feel more scared than he would ever admit.

"People...respond differently...to pain."

"This isn't about response! This is about having the decency to respect my son who's all by himself, God knows where. This is about an...unspoken moral agreement between brothers that they'll be there for each other and..." She took a shaky breath. "It's about Seth." He saw that she was on the verge of tears and placed a comforting hand on her back.

"Maybe there's more...or less to this than we're seeing. Maybe you should talk to Ryan again and get the full story from him."

"I can't talk to Ryan," she protested quickly, shaking her head. "You've always been better at this, Sandy. You should go." He sighed, then gave a reluctant nod.

"I'll see what I can get out of him."

"Thanks," she smiled slightly.

"Don't thank me yet."

He found Ryan in the pool house, sitting Indian-style next to his bags.

"Hey, kid."

"Hi, Sandy." Ryan looked scared.

"Still haven't unpacked?" Sandy nodded at the luggage.

"I...I did...and then I repacked. Listen, Sandy, I was thinking...maybe this isn't such a good idea. I'm sure Kirsten told you...whatever, and I'm an asshole and—"

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah, I think it's probably..."

"You're not leaving," Sandy said bluntly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"What...do you mean?"

"I mean, when you left in May you were leaving for a legitimate reason. I let you go because it was the noble thing to do. But now? Leaving because you had a fight with Kirsten? Sorry, man. You're not going anywhere."

"It's more than that," Ryan protested.

"No, it's not. I heard what happened."

"And it's reason enough for me to get the hell out of here."

"Why don't you tell me your side?" Ryan just looked away. "Look, Ryan, I heard about Marissa. I'm really sorry. That must be really tough for you."

"I'm fine."

"Fine enough to hook up with Marissa's best friend? And your best friend's girlfriend?" Sandy smiled a little, though it wasn't funny.

"It wasn't like that," Ryan said, sighing. "I ran into her...and it was always the four of us, you know? And then Seth left and Marissa went away, so..."

"There were two," Sandy completed, nodding.

"It was weird. We were both just lonely."

"Understandably."

"But Kirsten was right. Seth trusted me and Summer is off-limits."

"Well, is it going to happen again?"

"No. Of course not."

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem is...it happened once. And I'm going to have to tell Marissa and Summer's going to have to tell Seth, if..." Ryan nearly said, 'if he comes back' but quickly bit his tongue. "And Kirsten hates me." Sandy laughed abruptly.

"Kirsten is nowhere near hating you. Believe me. I've experienced the Kirsten's hatred. This is not it." Ryan played with the zipper on his backpack and Sandy put a hand on his shoulder. "She lost her child, Ryan. You can't even imagine what that feels like. I promise you, she doesn't hate you." Ryan gave a swift nod and Sandy stood up. "Now unpack your stuff. And don't even think of trying to sneak out in the night. Ears like a dog," Sandy pulled at an earlobe. Ryan smirked.

"What does that even mean?"

"It means...it means I'll hear you, okay?" Sandy grinned. "Promise you won't pull anything?"

"Yeah."

It's all clear,  
No need for you to fear,  
Nothing's under the bed tonight  
It's alright  
No need for you to fright,  
Nothing's after you tonight  
  
It's alright  
No need for you to fright,  
You've only lost your sense of sight  
Rest your head  
And dream yourself to bed,  
Or else I wont sleep well tonight

--Phantom Planet, "Rest Easy"


	8. Say You Miss Me

Chapter 8: Say You Miss Me

Several hours later, Kirsten's guilt had gotten to the point where she couldn't stand it anymore. And when Sandy poked his head into the room where she was working to ask her if she would drink any decaf, she lost it.

"Jimmy Cooper kissed me," she said quietly.

"I know," he replied, rolling his eyes. "You told me. Both of you, actually. Not exactly my fondest of memories."

"No. Again. He kissed me again." Sandy's silence made her more afraid than an outburst would have, she thought. "This afternoon, he kissed me and I left right away...but I thought you should know."

"Did you kiss him back?" Sandy's voice was hollow.

"I...don't think so."

"How do you not know?"

"It happened so fast, I..."

"How does this happen, Kirsten? It's not that hard to not kiss someone."

"I pulled away!"

"Kind of a coincidence, though. Two accidental kisses with your ex-boyfriend within six months. I mean, that's pretty bizarre. Some luck, huh?"

"Sandy, please don't get like this."

"Of course. I shouldn't react," Sandy said coldly.

"He's an impulsive guy, Sandy! And he's going through a rough time...and I left! It's not like I—"

"Oh. I forgot that he was going through a rough time. Good point. Maybe you could sleep at his place tonight. Since he's got so much to deal with."

"Sandy!"

"There was sexual tension between me and Rachel and you know what I did, Kirsten? I put in a request, specifically so I wouldn't be working any more cases with her. I threw out a good friendship with the woman who got me my job because I love you that much and I wouldn't want anything to come between us. It's clear that the feeling isn't mutual."

"Of course it is, Sandy!"

"That's why you may or may not have kissed him back? Which, by the way, means that you did."

"I was confused, Sandy. It lasted a second. Not even."

"But you kissed him back," Sandy said flatly.

"I was confused!" she said again. "It's just been so long since...anything."

"And whose fault is that? You shut down, Kirsten. You shut me out."

"I'm sorry," she said, sounding more desperate than she wanted to.

"I don't think that works the second time around," Sandy snapped, and he stormed out of the room. She sat, crying for a moment, feeling pathetic and disgusting and awful, and then decided that she needed some fresh air and stepped into the backyard. She got outside just in time to see Ryan jogging towards the pool house.

"Ryan?" she called softly, and he stopped and turned to face her.

"Hey," he said. "Uh, sorry. I was just...getting a drink."

"Where is it?" She looked at his empty hands and his eyes darted anxiously.

"I...I guess I..."

"How much did you hear?" she asked tiredly.

"Not much," he said quickly.

"All of it?"

"I just wanted a drink," he muttered.

"Well, there's an explanation for part of my anger from earlier," she said evenly. "I know what it's like to kiss someone that you're not supposed to be kissing, I guess." He looked uncomfortable and she cleared her throat. "I'm sorry you had to hear that."

"It's okay. I should have gone back outside." She shrugged, looked away, and perched on a deck chair. Ryan turned to go back to the pool house, but he forced himself to stop and face her again. "Kirsten?"

"Yeah." She sounded so empty, so weary.

"I'm really sorry about...what you saw. It's not going to happen again. We weren't thinking." She nodded.

"Okay."

"And I'm sorry about Seth. I don't know if I've said that to you yet. I'm really sorry that he left. I'm sorry that you're so sad." She forced a smile at him.

"It's not even close to being your fault. But thank you."

I've been sleeping alone, out on my own  
I'm sure it seems like I'm taking my time to get back to you  
You've been doing your part, working real hard  
I'm not lying, sure it seems like I'm trying to get back at you  
  
Do you miss me too?  
Baby say I'll miss you  
Just say you miss me too  
  
I've been losing my mind, wasting my time  
I'm not crazy, sure it seems like I'm lazin' up to get back to you  
You've been taking it hard, I know it's hard  
I'm not lying, sure it seems like I'm trying to get back at you  
  
Do you miss me too?  
Baby, say I'll miss you  
Just say you miss me too

--Wilco, "Say You Miss Me"


	9. Salvation

Oh no! I'm back! Thanks SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed. You guys are very motivational and I looove you. Please keep up the good work. ;)

And just a side note:

Princess Oats 435: Musical soul mates indeed! I'm so jealous, once again, that you got to see Phantom Planet! For free! And I'm loving that you're a Wilco fan! They're absolutely my favorite band and most people are like, "Who the hell is Wilco?" and then I cry. I saw then in concert last year—they were AMAZING! And I'm going again in 2 weeks and I'm beside myself. Anyways, sorry. Not that that is at all relevant. Or even interesting. But, yeah. I totally would have loved to witness the fiery hair crisis, it sounds highly entertaining. I hope you don't mind my saying that. ;) Thanks, once again, for the awesome review! ;)

So...here we go again. I'm not liking some parts of this. But...what can you do? (Appropriate response: "Well, you could edit...") Anyways. Please let me know what you think. I think that many of you will be happy with the gettings-on in chapter 10. Oh, sorry. Goings-on. (Yeah. That was a hint.) So...go to it! You rock! ;)

xoxo

Chapter 9: Salvation

Kirsten knocked sharply on Ryan's door the next morning, but couldn't do so without flashing back to the scene from yesterday. She shuddered as he called her inside.

"Hi, Ryan," she said. Her tone was bright but different, still, Ryan noticed. They had apparently not yet lived down yesterday's incident. "Do you know what today is?" He panicked, worrying that he was forgetting a birthday or an obscure holiday; the Cohens loved their holidays.

"Um...Tuesday?"

"Registration day," she explained. "School starts next week."

"Oh. Wow. I didn't even..."

"It feels weird," Kirsten agreed, smirking.

"Yeah. It does."

"But...we still need to get your schedule. Your books. And today's the day to do it. So...unless you have other plans..."

"No. Yeah. When are we going?"

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Kirsten had been quiet on the car ride there, but when they got to the schedule line she started to look nervous. Finally she turned to Ryan and anxiously asked,

"Should I pick up Seth's schedule? I mean...oh, god. What am I supposed to do?"

"Hello, Kirsten," the woman sitting at the table smiled. When had they gotten to the front of the line?

"Margaret, hi," Kirsten said. Ryan recognized her fake smile. "This is Ryan. Atwood. Um...A," Kirsten mumbled, nodding at him. The woman produced a card from one of the trays before her and handed it to Ryan.

"And where's your...other son today?" she asked curiously, studying Ryan. Kirsten froze, looking like she was going to be sick.

"He couldn't make it," Ryan supplied. "Seth Cohen."

"Of course." The woman handed over another card. "Good luck this year, young man. Kirsten, maybe I'll see you at parents' night?"

"Sure. Yes," Kirsten nodded quickly. She still looked a little unsteady so Ryan took her arm and guided her away.

"Are you okay?" he asked, once they were a safe distance from the schedule table. She nodded, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry...I had no idea that would be...so hard."

"It's okay," he said gently. "This is really strange."

"Thanks for covering for me. You shouldn't have to do that."

"No problem." She smiled, embarrassed.

"Okay. Well, why don't you go to the bookstore and start getting your stuff. I'm sure that's going to take awhile. I have to talk to Dr. Kim about Seth." She fished a credit card out of her wallet and handed it to him. "I'll meet you there in a little bit. This meeting shouldn't take too long." He nodded and watched her walk away. She was so different from the woman he had met a year ago. So different from the woman he had known basically up until a few days ago. Kirsten wasn't perfect. Her son was gone and her marriage was a wreck and she was miserable. How she still managed to look completely together was beyond him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kirsten didn't get to kiss Jimmy. It wasn't fair. This lack of justice was what brought him to standing at the door of Rachel's office, deciding whether or not to knock. Suddenly the door flew open and Rachel yelped.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Oh, wow. I'm sorry. I was just about to knock," he said meekly . She studied him suspiciously.

"What do you want?"

"I wanted to talk," he replied. "See how you were doing."

"I'm going to make copies," she said, and started walking. He stood behind her, feeling stupid until she turned around. "That was an invitation for you to come along."

"Oh!" He jogged after her, suspecting that she was quickly thawing. "So, how're you doing?"

"I'm fine." She straightened her paper in the copy machine and smiled. "I would ask you how you are, but it's obvious that you're fighting with your wife."

"What...what do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb, Sandy," she said. "You do it too well naturally." He stared at her, withholding, and she let out an exasperated sigh. "You haven't spoken to me in four months. If you think I don't know that you asked to work independently, you're sorely mistaken. Suddenly you're waiting outside my door wanting to talk. I doubt that Kirsten would approve of that, so it's my suspicion that Kirsten doesn't know that you're here. It's my suspicion, actually, that not only does she not know...you're here to spite her."

"I just wanted to know how you were doing," Sandy replied flatly.

"Like I said, fine," Rachel said.

"You got plans for lunch?" he asked, and she shrugged.

"I could probably squeeze you in."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"We filed a missing person report," Kirsten explained to a frowning Dr. Kim. "His letter insinuated that he would be coming back."

"He didn't say for sure?"

"No," Kirsten admitted. "But he said he was just going away for some time. Not...forever. I know how important school is to him. He has...you know, he has goals. And his friends are here. I just...I would like to know that there will be a space available for him when he comes back."

"If he does come back," Dr. Kim said.

"He will," Kirsten said firmly, though inside she was not nearly as sure.

"Well, I don't appreciate this. Admissions to Harbor are limited, and I hate to think of a potential new student being denied a spot because we're waiting for another to return from a long vacation. Seth understands how strict we are about attendance."

"Our family went through a series of...difficult events. We all had trouble coping emotionally. Seth, in particular. It's not that he doesn't care. We're all just dealing with a lot right now."

"I thought you haven't spoken to him," Dr. Kim said, sounding confused.

"I haven't."

"So how is it that you know he is feeling all of this?" Kirsten, feeling rather like Dr. Kim had just punched her, shifted in her seat.

"Because he's my son. I know him." Dr. Kim raised her eyes skeptically as she paged through Seth's file.

"He's an excellent student academically," she commented. "He's maintained almost a straight-A average throughout his three years here."

"He's very smart," Kirsten agreed. Dr. Kim sighed and closed the file.

"We can save him a spot."

"Oh, thank you, Dr. Kim. Sandy and I—and Seth, too—we all appreciate this."

"But he will be expected to completely catch up with all of his work. And I'm going to be keeping a very close eye on him."

"That sounds very reasonable."

"Again, we start out the school year on a very precarious foot," Dr. Kim smiled wryly.

"They're both good boys," Kirsten said.

"I don't doubt that." Dr. Kim stood up to shake Kirsten's hand. "Good luck, Kirsten."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So this little Pomeranian chewed up a plastic flower and this total nutcase sued its owner," Rachel said as they sat across from each other at a nearby restaurant. Their laughter was cut off by his cell phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey." He froze at the sound of Kirsten's voice and prayed to god that she wouldn't be able to sense Rachel through the phone. As ridiculous as it sounded, he was actually concerned about this possibility.

"Hi," he said, avoiding eye contact with Rachel.

"Sorry to bother you at work. I just wanted you to know that I had the meeting with Dr. Kim and she's going to let Seth come back."

"Oh, that's great."

"Okay. Well...I was just letting you know." This was painfully awkward.

"Thanks."

"Sure."

"Okay."

"Right. Bye." He listened to her hang up and then did so himself, facing a curious Rachel.

"That was an incredibly short and uncomfortable phone conversation."

"Kirsten," he explained.

"Ouch. I didn't know things were that bad."

"What do you mean?" he asked defensively.

"That was, like, excruciating to listen to." He hated himself for being so indecisive, but suddenly he was angry with Rachel, the woman he had wanted so badly to have lunch with. The woman he was almost considering having an affair with. All he could think about was Kirsten sitting alone in Dr. Kim's big office, getting interrogated and having to tell the cold woman personal things about their family. He felt awful. "What, did you, like, embarrass her at one of your cocktail parties? Knot your tie wrong?" She was messing around, he knew, and he forced a smile.

"Seth ran away. She's having a hard time." This shut her up.

"Oh, my god, Sandy. I didn't know."

"Don't worry about it." He stood up, putting some money down on the table. "I'm sorry to do this. I have...I have a meeting at one. Thanks for this, though. It was good to catch up."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She spotted Summer through the swarm of kids in the school bookstore, and before she could move off in search of Ryan, Summer made her way over.

"Hi, Mrs. Cohen."

"Hey, Summer."

"Ryan's in line for his books," Summer explained, and Kirsten nodded.

"I guess I should probably get Seth's books," Kirsten said.

"Is he...?"

"No. Not yet."

"Oh." Kirsten felt foolish now, caught buying books for her potentially dead son, but Summer took Seth's schedule from her hands. "I'll help you." Yep. She had always liked Summer. They stopped for Seth's math book and Summer cleared her throat. "I wanted to apologize again for yesterday."

"It's okay, Summer."

"No, it's not. We weren't thinking. I was just really mad at Cohen and I wanted to do something that I knew would hurt him." She seemed to realize what she had just said and covered her mouth. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Cohen. I didn't mean..."

"I've never been angrier with him," Kirsten said, offering a sad smile. "It's hard."

"It was such a mean thing to do," Summer said as they moved on to the English section. "But at the same time I know that Cohen didn't do it to be mean."

"That still doesn't make it any easier, I know."

"You haven't heard anything from him?"

"Not since the note he left us."

"Do you think he's okay?"

"I don't know," she replied honestly. Summer nodded, looking downward. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Summer shrugged.

"I heard about Marissa. I'm sorry."

"Coop's needed help for awhile," Summer said quietly.

"Well, our door is always open. If you want to come over for dinner or to hang out with Ryan...or if you want to talk to someone about Seth. Stop by anytime." Summer smiled.

"Thanks, Mrs. Cohen."

So Jesus left you lonely  
Feels like nothing's really holy  
No one no one hears your calling  
Falling, everything is falling  
  
Do you feel alive?  
Can you feel alive?  
Do you feel alive?  
Can you feel alive?  
  
Try so hard just to speak to you  
Nothing ever seems to come through  
Circumstances on the breaking back  
Try to sit down is a therapy  
  
Oh, salvation  
Oh, salvation  
  
Do you feel alive?  
Can you feel alive?  
Do you feel alive?  
Can you feel alive?

--Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, "Salvation"


	10. Don't Let Go

Chapter 10: Don't Let Go

She found him in their room, making the bed.

"Rosa told me she was going to do that this morning," she commented softly.

"She did. But she used those blue ones...with the weird embroidery or whatever. The ones you hate." He didn't look at her.

"They're scratchy," she agreed, leaning against the doorframe to watch him. "Thanks, Sandy." He waved a dismissive hand as he spread the comforter down. He lifted a pillow and she felt her eyes fill up with tears. "You fluff the pillows," she mumbled, shaking her head. "You fluff the fucking pillows and you change the sheets I don't like and you plan surprises for me and I'm so mean to you." She sank into a nearby chair, allowing a few tears to fall from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Sandy." He abandoned his pillow and watched her for a moment.

"It's okay."

"He left, and it's not your fault, and you're still here and you need someone to fall back onto and I am...horrible." He couldn't be angry with her anymore and neared her and knelt down.

"You could never be horrible," he whispered, brushing her tears away. "Catty, sure, and cold, and kind of bitchy...but never horrible." He smiled and she laughed shortly. "I get that this is hard," he explained, taking her hands. "Believe me, I get it. I don't think I can get through this much longer if we can't be there for each other."

"I'm sorry," she said again.

"Me too, sweetie. I haven't exactly been the best guy ever lately."

"You've been doing better than I have."

"Agreed. I didn't kiss Jimmy Cooper," he smirked and she rolled her eyes. "It's a test, Kirsten. All of this. We need tests every once in awhile. Keeps us on our toes, you know?"

"Except that I have been nowhere near on my toes."

"We do the best we can, honey."

"Okay."

"We just have to try harder, huh? Now we have an even bigger incentive with Ryan home. We need to start acting like adults. And we both know that I'm not terribly good at acting like an adult without you keeping me in line." She smiled and he lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "I don't want to lose you, Kirsten."

"You won't."

"We're going to get through this," he whispered reassuringly, hugging her. She buried her face in his chest.

"I know," she mumbled, and he had to laugh at how uncertain she sounded.

"I promise." He stroked her hair and leaned over to kiss her. "Oh, man. Jimmy Cooper was the last guy to touch your mouth."

"I washed it," she assured him, pulling him closer.

"Mm, talk about being on your toes," he said, kissing her neck.

"I missed this." He pulled back for a moment, cocking an eyebrow.

"You could have fooled me."

"I wasn't ready," she said, blushing. "It didn't feel right."

"And that's changed?"

"Yeah," she decided. "You're the only thing in my life that has...almost always been perfect and right and good. And when I don't have that—you—I sort of...lose it. But now I'm starting to feel like...this...might be okay. Like we might be okay." He guided her over to their bed and gently kissed her hand.

"We're going to be okay."

Anytime that you want

I'll be here in your arms

Silently holding on

To the girl with the charms

But if there comes a day

You should turn your heart away

I'll be down on my knees

Begging for that girl to stay

Don't let go

Anything you desire

I will set at your feet

With a kiss in the air

For the gods to receive

But if there comes a day

You should turn your heart away

I'll be down on my knees

Begging for that girl to stay

Confrontations in my mind

Got me running out of time

Don't let go

But if there comes a day

You should turn your heart away

I'll be down on my knees begging for that girl to stay

Don't let go

--Weezer, "Don't Let Go"


	11. Kissing the Lipless

Hey, all! You guys are fantastic and I appreciate the lovely reviews. They cheered me up quite a bit. ;)

Princess Oats 435: Thanks for the Weezer story! My Weezer story is...one day I bought "The Green Album" and I liked it so I bought the other 3 Weezer albums. So that kind of sucks as a story. Yours was better. I love hearing about crazy roommates. ;)

All right. So here we go again. I'm kind of having the worst day ever and my worst nightmare may very well become a reality in the very near future. So I'm sort of freaking out and thanking god for Excedrin Migraine...and if you could review some more, that would be terrific. The combination of several cups of coffee and several doses of Excedrin (which has the same amount of caffeine as a cup of coffee) has made me sort of shaky and numb...so review and allow me to feel something aside from jittery? You are all AWESOME and I thank you. ;)

Chapter 11: Kissing the Lipless

The last time the phone rang it had been Julie Cooper, calling with an elaborate story involving peach-flavored condoms, Viagra, and Caleb. Needless to say, she did not jump at the chance to answer it when it rang again ten minutes later. There was always that underlying hope, though, that it would be Seth calling. For this, she grabbed it on the last ring.

"Hello?" Sandy and Seth made fun of her hello sometimes because it was so perky. Normally the mockery annoyed her but she would have given anything to hear Seth's high-pitched mimic answer her. Instead she heard Teresa.

"Hey, Mrs. Cohen." Teresa. Calling to reclaim Ryan? She kind of wanted to vomit. "This is Teresa. Um, Ryan's friend? From—,"

"Hi, Teresa." She snapped out of her paranoid trance. "How are you doing, sweetie? Ryan told me what happened. I'm sorry."

"I'm okay. I'm sorry about Seth." Kirsten did not enjoy exchanging condolences over lost children with a sixteen-year-old.

"Thank you," she said stiffly, mentally beating the small part of her that blamed Teresa for Seth's disappearance. Small pieces of her blamed a large variety of people, from Sandy to Styx (for writing that god-awful song about sailing away).

"How's Ryan?" Teresa asked.

"He's good. He starts school in about a week." She paused, thought of Ryan playing video games in the next room. "We've really missed him."

"Could I talk to him?"

"Of course." Now Kirsten's aggressive mind was telling Teresa that there was no way in hell that Ryan was moving back to Chino. She had a bad feeling. She called out to him, informed him of his phone call, and waited until she heard him pick up before she joined Sandy in the living room. He was listening to Sinatra and doing a crossword puzzle and he smiled distractedly when he saw her come in. "Ryan's on the phone with Teresa," she said resignedly, sitting next to him on the couch. He looked up quickly, reaching to turn down his music.

"What does she want?" Kirsten shook her head.

"I don't know. We didn't talk for very long." They both paused to think, Sandy absently drawing spirals on the border of his puzzle. "No good can come of this," Kirsten stated dramatically, and Sandy couldn't help but laugh.

"Let's just wait until he gets off the phone before we start sensationalizing, okay, honey? Maybe she's just calling to say hello." Kirsten rolled her eyes and he took her hand. "You never know, right? Come on, help me out here. Forty-three down is killing me." She gave a halfhearted glance down at his puzzle.

"Chanel. 'Designer Coco' is Chanel." He glanced up at her, amused by her prompt reply.

"Genius," he mumbled, scribbling it in.

"Are you making fun of me?" she asked. He smiled, brushing her hair away and kissing her neck.

"Never."

"I don't understand how you can't be worried by this," she said, unfazed. He kept kissing her, moving down to her collarbone.

"Just wait and see, honey," he mumbled.

"Twelve across is 'alcove'," she pointed out absently, reading over his shoulder. "And I think eight down is 'isotope'. And fifty-six down might be 'ultimatum', but I'm not sure." He penciled in the answers and promptly focused his attention back on kissing her.

"Genius. What'd I say?" She finally gave in, smiling and kissing him back. A few minutes later, she heard a familiar clear of the throat and jumped off of Sandy's lap, blushing. Ryan stood awkwardly behind a nearby chair.

"Hey. Sorry."

"How's Teresa doing?" Sandy asked, never nearly as embarrassed by these interruptions as Kirsten was.

"Um, you know. Not great."

"Understandably." Kirsten felt her heart sinking.

"She wants me to come and visit her," Ryan added, confirming Kirsten's fears. "Tie up some loose ends." Sandy saw his wife tense up and discreetly put his hand over hers.

"Are you going to go?" he asked. Ryan shrugged, looking away.

"Yeah. I mean, I guess. We have to...settle things. With her mom. Or...I don't know. She's my friend. I know that sounds stupid, but I've known her forever." Sandy smiled.

"Doesn't sound stupid to me. When are you going?"

"I was thinking maybe tomorrow. Unless..."

"Well, I've got to work. But Kirsten, you'll be here, right?" She knew what he was doing. Not-so-subtly coaxing her into being okay with this.

"Yeah. You can take my car," she offered absently. He smiled.

"Thanks. I'm gonna go...do stuff." They watched him leave.

"She wants him back," Kirsten said softly.

"We don't know that," Sandy said with exaggerated nonchalance.

"Yes, we do, Sandy."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At around midnight, she watched Sandy sleep as she lay awake. He never had problems sleeping, even with potentially critical situations on his hands. He tossed and turned and sometimes mumbled to himself, but sleep always came. She was the opposite and sat up, apprehensively playing with her hands. Teresa wanted Ryan back. One of his oldest friends. The mother of his potential son, who, albeit, was dead. But still. How could he say no? Sandy mumbled something in his sleep about nuclear physics and she quietly got out of bed and put on her robe. Two hours ago she had promised Sandy that she wouldn't meddle, but she knew that she had to do what she was about to do. She went outside and knocked on the door of the pool house.

"It's open," Ryan called out, and she stepped inside.

"Hey," she said awkwardly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Did I wake you?" He was holding on of Seth's video games and shook his head.

"Nope. Just, ah..." he waved the game around and then set it on his bedside table, "messing around. Couldn't sleep. What's up?"

"Actually...I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow."

"You need the Range Rover? Cause I was thinking, and I'm fine to take the bus," he offered.

"No, no. The car is all yours. I just...wondered if you might want some company." Ryan stared at her for a minute and she struggled to explain herself. "It's a long drive, and people seem to prey on my car, if you'll recall that incident at the end of last summer. I just...if that's going to happen again, I'd rather you not be in the actual vehicle. You could get poisoned by the spray paint, or..." She was rambling. She knew it. Seth was quite the bad influence. Eighteen years of etiquette training and filling in awkward silences at her parents' parties and she was blathering on about aerosol.

"Do you want to come because you think I won't come back?" He caught her off-guard and she didn't have the energy to make herself sound convincing.

"That's part of it."

"I'm not going to run away, Kirsten."

"I know," she said quietly. "It's just...you never know what..."

"I promise," he said earnestly and she smiled, reaching back for the doorknob.

"Okay. Good night." She turned to go.

"Hey, Kirsten?" When she faced him he was blushing slightly. "I don't need a warden, but company would be good."

Called to see if your back  
Was still aligned and your sheets  
Were growing grass all on the corners of your bed  
  
But you've got too much to wear on your sleeves  
It has too much to do with me  
And secretly I want to bury in the yard  
The grey remains of a friendship scarred  
  
You told us of your new life there  
You got someone comin' around  
Gluing tinsel to your crown  
He's got you talking pretty loud  
You berate remember your ailing heart and your criminal eyes  
You say you're still in love  
If it's true what can be done  
It's hard to leave all those moments behind  
  
You tested your metal of doe's skin and petals  
While kissing the lipless  
Who bleed all the sweetness away

--The Shins, "Kissing the Lipless"


	12. A Few Minutes of Silence

Chapter 12: A Few Minutes of Silence

I'm back! Again, sorry, because I try to make that sound exciting and we are all well aware that it is not. ;) Anyways...sorry this took me so long, particularly after the lovely encouragement you guys sent along. I had some family stuff and some concert stuff and some midterm stuff. But now I'm back in action. ;) And I'm particularly energetic because of the premiere. And my purchase of the DVDs. Though I'm a little creeped out by the whole Julie/Marissa relationship because my mom and I had that EXACT same fight and basically have the exact same relationship...minus the marriage of an old creepy man and the drowning of lawn furniture. But I can cope. Regardless...here it is. It's a little weird. And I don't know where I'm going with it.

And Princess Oats: I did not know that it was possible to go an octave higher than the Shins. Props to your friend. ;) I also extend my sympathy for the whole "Renegade" thing. Song that is constantly in my head? "Horse With No Name." If you don't know it, I'm not going to tell you, because that would be a very, very mean thing for me to do. And thanks for the awesome reviews! You rock!

And a shout-out to Dulcey, who is LOVELY. Thanks very much for the kind words. ;)

So...here goes nothing! Please review!!!

xoxo

"I still can't believe you're doing this," Sandy said while they waited for Ryan in the driveway. She leaned against the car and he put his arm around her.

"I can't lose him again," she said honestly, watching Ryan approach them from the pool house.

"Well, be careful. I don't think Chino has ever met a Kirsten Cohen."

"Chino has definitely never met a Kirsten Cohen," Ryan supplied.

"What does that mean?" Kirsten asked defensively. Sandy pulled her closer and kissed her on the cheek.

"It means that Chino is in for a treat. Just be careful, okay?"

"We're not going into battle," Kirsten protested, amused. Sandy put a hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"Take care of her, okay?" Ryan solemnly agreed and watched Sandy say goodbye to Kirsten again.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The phone rang and then it was like he was watching himself from outside of his body somewhere. Floating. Witnessing the horror that he couldn't bring himself to experience. They'd found a body—a boy who'd been mugged and stabbed to death in Corona. A boy who was tall and thin with curly brown hair and Sandy sat on the soft carpet of the living room. He never actually thought it could happen. He and Kirsten had vaguely discussed it, but she bought his books for school. Sandy renewed his subscription to Spin. He was coming back. Until that very moment, he was coming back. And now he was dead? In a second. A shaking hand dialed Kirsten's number and a numb ear heard her voicemail cheerfully requesting that he leave a message.

"Kirsten...call me. Please. When you get this, I—I need you to call me right away." And then the doorbell rang. Doorbells were not supposed to ring at times like these, unless they were ringing because Kirsten, Seth, or Ryan had pressed the glowing button and was waiting on the front step to rescue Sandy. He held his breath as he pulled on the heavy door, praying that it was Seth. Alive.

"Hi, Mr. Cohen..." Summer trailed off when she saw him. "Mr. Cohen?"

"Hello, Summer." He was hoarse.

"Mr. Cohen, what's wrong?"

"They think they found Seth," Sandy said, and before Summer could light up he added, "Dead. They think he's dead."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"So this is Chino," Kirsten commented politely as Ryan turned off of one dingy street onto another.

"This is Chino," he confirmed.

"Huh," she nodded slowly. "It's nice."

"We just drove past a dead possum," he pointed out.

"Did we?" she feigned nonchalance, feeling her stomach churn as she recalled the gory sight a few yards back. Ryan laughed quietly and said nothing as he pulled up in front of a house. "This is Teresa's house?"

"Yep."

"So that was your house?" Kirsten studied the shabby framework of the house next door.

"Yep." A deserted mailbox still read 'Atwood' in crumbling letters.

"Do you miss it?" she asked softly. Ryan briskly shook his head and opened his door.

"Naah." Kirsten followed him out and up to the front door. It was opened by a pleasant-looking woman and Kirsten wondered if Ryan's story of Teresa's evil mother was perhaps exaggerated.

"She left this for you," the woman said, thrusting an envelope into his hands. No greeting at all; Kirsten retracted her doubt.

"What do you mean?" Ryan asked, his voice wavering.

"Hello," Teresa's mother acknowledged Kirsten. "Are you his new girlfriend?" Kirsten blushed, stammering.

"I'm his...I'm Kirsten Cohen. His...foster mother."

"Oh. Hello." She offered a dismissive nod. "Nancy."

"Nice to...meet you."

"What do you mean, she left this for me?" Ryan cut in. "Where did she go?"

"Arizona," Nancy said dismissively. "She said she couldn't take California and she took off."

"Arizona? What's in Arizona? Why did you let her go? Why did she have me come here if she was just going to leave?" Kirsten said Ryan tense up, heard his voice tremble, and she put a hand on his back. To her surprise, he jerked away and she took a step back, wounded.

"Maybe it says so in the note. If you ask me, you don't deserve an explanation."

"Ryan worked very hard," Kirsten spoke up.

"He didn't work as hard as he could have."

"He's sixteen!"

"He should have thought of that before he slept with another sixteen-year-old," Nancy said coldly, and closed the door in their faces. They both stood silently for a moment, still, like they were afraid to move. Finally Ryan cleared his throat and started down the walkway. Kirsten followed him back into the car and once they were seated, she reached towards him.

"I'm so sorry, Ryan." Her hand lingered near his arm but didn't touch it. She couldn't take him pulling away again.

"It's okay," he forced a smile and pulled away from the curb. "No big deal." She did not point out her agreement that it wasn't a big deal. It was a huge deal, she thought, but she only stared out the window. They drove in silence for several minutes until Ryan pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall. "Sandy's not expecting us until seven," he pointed out. "You want to get a cup of coffee?" She smiled even though she could tell that his happiness was artificial.

"Yeah."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Their drive to the morgue in Corona was completely silent. Summer wasn't crying. She looked terrified, Sandy observed. He imaged that the same could be said about himself. The hallway was cold and poorly lit, and he identified himself at the front desk.

"I'm here to identify...my...son. I'm Sandy. Um, Sandy Cohen. You called me."

"Of course. Come with me, Mr. Cohen." The coroner was nice. A young woman with her hair in a barrette. Sandy watched her hair bounce as he walked behind her. Summer was waiting in the lobby. Sandy stared at the white sheet and his head throbbed. Sethster. His little man. He and Kirsten had been so young but delighted. "I just need you to make a positive identification. Are you ready?" He wasn't. He nodded. The woman pulled back the sheet and he threw up in a trash can by the door.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The moment they got out of the car Ryan realized how out-of-place Kirsten looked. Donna Karan cashmere sweaters had no place on these streets. Quickly, he moved so she was walking against the stores with him on the outside, blocking her body with his. He gave her a once-over and recalled Marissa's whispered awe over Kirsten's purse. They had been standing in the Cohen's kitchen and Kirsten had retrieved her bag to get Ryan her car keys. Marissa had looked shocked, then spent the next hour marveling over how the bag was over nine thousand dollars and somewhat of a legend.

"Turn your purse backwards," he instructed, and she glanced curiously at him, then at her purse.

"What do you mean?"

"The logo. Turn it around to hide the logo." Was he ashamed to be able to recognize Donna Karan and know the location and significance of a Marc Jacobs nameplate on a handbag? Hell, yes. He blamed Marissa 100 percent. But he didn't want a devious street vendor or a smarmy pickpocket to snatch her zillion dollar bag. She smiled and followed his orders.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

"So, is it safe for us to get coffee, do you think?"

"As long as you keep your purse backwards," he smiled.

"Where do you learn this stuff?" She was half-joking but he cast his eyes downward, blushing.

"I used to be the kid who looked out for those things. People. Like you, I guess. And...labels. Stuff like that. We'd make a day out of it. Drive to LA and scope out the rich and vulnerable." When he saw how concerned she looked, he tried to correct himself. "I actually never stole anything myself. I was the watchdog." She remained quiet, brow furrowed. "I shouldn't have told you that," he said. "I'm sorry."

"No, no." She quickly attempted to mask her discomfort. "Ryan, I...this sounds so stupid, but I forget sometimes that you've lived an entirely different life. Sometimes I don't even realize it and I think we've had you all along." She smiled meekly. "And then you tell me things like that, and it's just kind of a...jolt. Because I've never known the boy who looked out for cops while his friends mugged people." She laughed sadly. "You've made a lot of changes, huh?"

"You have no idea."

"No, I don't," she agreed. "If you ever want to give me some idea...some insight on your old life...I'd like to hear about it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Because legally, you're mine. Legally, you're as much mine as Seth is. And all I know about Seth could fill...a million books, but you...I know almost nothing. It would be nice to have a little more balance between my...two sons." They were both silent as they let her words sink in. She prayed that her statement wouldn't scare him off. He was trying not to smile, but it was difficult.

"So, what do you want to know about me?" he asked, making deliberate eye contact to let her know how he felt. She smiled.

"Putting me on the spot? Nice." She considered things. "I don't know. Let's see. What was your first word?"

"I have absolutely no idea," he laughed. "Who remembers that?"

"Seth's was 'pony'."

"Pony."

"I take it you've met Captain Oats?"

"Of course. I think Seth introduced him to me before he introduced himself."

"I brought Captain Oats back from one of my first business trips. Seth was around two. He was a very quiet baby, oddly enough." They both settled into an awkward silence and Ryan quickened his pace to get to the coffee shop.

"Here we are. Chino's finest." They approached the counter and Kirsten ordered her coffee. Both Ryan and the cashier were stunned by her elaborate request, a jumble of Starbucks lingo that went right over Ryan's head. Oblivious, she turned to him.

"What would you like?"

"Um, coffee's good." Now that she had something to compare her drink to, she looked significantly ashamed.

"God, listen to me. Coffee is coffee."

"You know what you like. Nothing wrong with that." She smiled.

"I'll get us a table?"

"Sounds good." She sat and waited for him, playing with her hands. When he took a seat across from her she smiled.

"So, Ryan." She wrapped her hands around her cup of coffee, cocking her head. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded quickly.

"It's okay if you're not," she offered softly.

"Yeah. I know. I'm good."

"This must be weird for you. In the case that you are 'good'...I mean...that's lucky. This is...hard, I'm sure."

"Yeah, well, I mean...feelings...I'm not a feelings guy."

"It's okay to be a feelings guy," she pointed out.

"No, it's cool. I mean, it sucks, but...I'm good."

"So you keep saying." Ryan grabbed a napkin and began to elaborately refold it, clearly uncomfortable with the turn their conversation had taken. She reached for her purse and pulled out her cell phone, a little distraction of her own. "Sandy called," she remarked just to make noise. "Looks like he's checking up on me." She smiled at Ryan as she raised the phone to her ear. "He's very protective. Which is nice, but it's not like—," She froze at the sound of Sandy's voice.

"Kirsten...call me. Please. When you get this, I—I need you to call me right away." Something was wrong. Off. He sounded absent and groggy.

"What's the matter?" Ryan asked. Kirsten shook her head as she dialed their home number.

"I can't tell." She sighed anxiously at the sound of the answering machine. "God, Sandy, where are you?" she murmured, trying his cell phone.

"This is Sandy Cohen. Leave me a message." She tossed her phone into her purse and stood up.

"I'm sorry to cut this short, Ryan, but—,"

"Of course. Let's go." She loved him for getting it, for getting that her instincts were rarely wrong and for getting that she knew Sandy so well.

"Thanks."

Play me what I want to hear  
Don't make me have to come down there  
Forgot how to think and I don't wanna dance  
I wanna hear few minutes, few minutes, few minutes, of silence  
Few minutes, few minutes, few minutes, of silence  
  
It's me, I'm back for my request  
Cut me some slack and give it a rest  
Sex and money and violence  
I wanna hear few minutes, few minutes, few minutes, of silence  
Few minutes, few minutes, few minutes of silence  
  
Silence  
Silence  
  
You know the reason I'm listening for  
One more note and I'm out that door  
Is it too much to ask for my request  
  
Silence

--Paul Westerberg, "A Few Minutes of Silence"


	13. Brand New Colony

Chapter 13: Brand New Colony

When they got back to Newport, a frantic Kirsten entered the house to find Sandy playing video games on the couch.

"Sandy, what's going on?" He looked up, smiling.

"Hey! The road trippers are back early! What do you mean, what's going on?"

"Your message!" His face fell.

"What...message?" he asked, fearing her reply.

"The urgent message you left telling me to call you right away! The one I've listened to at least thirty times! Why haven't you answered the phone?"

"I left you a message?" Kirsten, awestruck, waved her phone in the air.

"'Kirsten, I need you to call me right away.' God, Sandy, what's going on?"

"I...don't know."

"This isn't funny. This is so not funny. I was worried, Sandy! I was driving about forty miles over the speed limit because I was scared out of my mind! You have no idea what it's been like inside my head for the past hour!"

"Kirsten. Honestly. I don't know." The seriousness of his expression scared her and she quickly turned to Ryan and forced a smile.

"Could you give us a minute, sweetie?" He retreated to the pool house and Kirsten faced Sandy. "You don't remember calling me?"

"I've been asleep," he explained quietly. "Can I listen to the message?" She tentatively handed over the phone, scared of this dazed, bewildered man sitting before her. He listened to the message and looked up at her. "Oh, my god."

"What? Sandy, tell me what's going on." He stared into his lap.

"I was dreaming."

"I'm sorry?"

"It was a dream. I had a dream...about Seth...and I called you."

"In your sleep?" She sat next to him, hands carefully clasped in front of her.

"Evidently."

"What were you dreaming about Seth?"

"Not important," he shrugged.

"It's definitely important, honey," she said gently, putting a hand on his leg.

"That must have been some nap. I can't believe I called you."

"Sandy," she said firmly.

"He was dead." Her breath caught in her throat but she masked how scared she really was and nodded slowly.

"And you were calling to tell me?"

"Yes. God, imagine if you'd answered the phone."

"I've never known you to have nightmares before."

"They're never that vivid."

"You have them a lot?" she asked, alarmed. He blushed, looking away.

"No. I mean, just every once in awhile."

"How often?"

"I don't know."

"Often?"

"I guess."

"Nightly?" He didn't reply. She reached over, softly turning his head to face her. "Sandy, you have these dreams every night?"

"They're just dreams." He shrugged, standing up to turn off the Playstation. She watched him, concerned.

"Has this been going on since he left?"

"More or less."

"Why haven't you told me?"

"They're just dreams," he repeated, smiling sheepishly.

"Sandy, you called me in your sleep. These are not just dreams."

"Seth used to talk in his sleep sometimes. Remember? We'd walk by his room and he'd be fast asleep but chatting it up about God knows what."

"I'm worried about you," she said quietly, watching him as he aimlessly reordered a shelf of CDs. "I didn't know, Sandy. You never mentioned anything."

"Hey," he came over, touched her face. "I'm a grown-up. I don't need to run to my mom when I have a bad dream." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. "Or my gorgeous wife. I don't need to run to her, either."

"Maybe we should talk to someone."

"I don't need therapy, honey."

"I think we both do," she said honestly. "Because things like this...they make me hate him. And I hate hating him. I'm not allowed to hate him, but I can't help it." He sat next to her and pulled her closer.

"You don't hate him."

"I know," she said with a shaky sigh. "But we can't keep dancing around this Seth thing. Something has to change."

"Hey, school's starting. That's a change. Ryan's gonna have...annoying teachers and rivalries with water polo players and the inevitable and highly entertaining girl drama that seems to follow him wherever he goes. Big changes."

"I think we need to start seeing someone," she pressed on. "This family needs some serious transformation."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Serious transformation" came in the form of Kirsten being violently ill forty-five minutes before their first therapy session was scheduled to take place. She sat back on her heels, catching her breath while Sandy rubbed her back.

"Wow. I haven't seen you like this since Caleb proposed to Julie."

"I'm not drunk," she protested weakly.

"Bad Thai last night?"

"Maybe." She jerked forward and he whisked her hair away as she threw up again. He gently felt her forehead and frowned.

"I'll call and cancel."

"No!" She held up a hand, blinking hard. "I'm fine."

"You're clearly not fine, Kirsten, unless 'fine' has taken to meaning 'being aggressively sick at nine in the morning'."

"You have no idea how many strings I had to pull to get this appointment, Sandy. Dr. Mercer is the most highly-praised psychiatrist in California. There is no way we're canceling this." She tried to stand up and faltered, grabbing onto the sink. Sandy jumped up and held onto her waist.

"Honey, you can't even stand."

"I'm perfectly fine. Just woozy. Give me a minute. It'll go away."

"Kirsten..." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Feeling better already." She smiled forcedly.

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"I'm fine." She reached for her toothbrush. "You want to drive or should I?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Something wrong?" he asked, watching her stare dismally up at his sunroof.

"I'm having second thoughts," she said guiltily.

"Oh?"

"What if he...I mean, what if, like, the only way to get on with our lives is to...get rid of his chair at the dinner table? Or clean out his room or destroy all of his pictures or something. I don't want to do that." He smirked, even though she seemed quite serious.

"He's a therapist, sweetie, not Stalin. And even if he were the oppressor you're making him out to be, they'd just be suggestions. We don't have to do anything we don't want to."

"But he's—,"

"The most highly praised psychiatrist in the universe, sweetheart, I know."

"I'm not used to this, Sandy," she said defensively, and he softened and put a hand on her leg.

"Me either. But you've got me there and I've got you there...and if he's a total wackjob we'll bail early, okay?"

"Promise?"

"You have my word."

"Fine." She watched him pull the car into a parking space. "Let's just do this."

I'll be the waterwings that save you if you start drowning

In an open tab when your judgement's on the brink

I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite

Albums back as you're lying there drifting off to sleep...

I'll be the platform shoes and undo what heredity's done to you...

You won't have to strain to look into my eyes

I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zipped straight to the throat

With the collar up so you won't catch a cold

I want to take you far from the cynics in this town

And kiss you on the mouth

We'll cut out bodies free from the tethers of this scene,

Start a brand new colony

Where everything will change,

We'll give ourselves new names (identities erased)

The sun will hear the grounds

Under our bare feet in this brand new colony

Everything will change

--The Postal Service, "Brand New Colony"

And there you have it. Let me know what you think. And I'm just now realizing, Princess Oats, that you used the Postal Service in your AMAZING story, so now it totally sounds like I'm copying. But I swear to god I'm not. It was down to this song and a Strokes song and I saw a picture of one of the Strokes wearing this shirt that was a really miserable attempt at political controversy and it made me so furious that I chose the Postal Service instead. But if you'd like me to change it, let me know. You're the boss. ;)

And also? Sorry I made Teresa's mom such a raving bitch. I mean, I know she's not, like, a saint or anything, what with the covert fakings of baby deaths...but, you know, I played her up a little bit. ::shrug::

Okay! Please review! You guys are awesome!

xoxo


	14. The New Year

Wow! Quite a hiatus I took there. I apologize to those of you requesting an update, and I appreciate your support of my writing. Because of your kindness, I am putting up a long-ish update. I hope you'll enjoy. ;) I also got tired of finding song lyrics and having to edit the people who put "U" instead of "you" and misspelled the "who's"/"whose" and the "your"/"you're" and the "to"/"two"/"too" and whatnot. Those people are incredibly aggravating and I, frankly, have had just about enough of them. I'm just doing titles now...chapter 14 belongs to Death Cab.  
Anyways—thanks so much for reading and reviewing as you have been. Your benevolence fuels me. ;)

Princess Oats 435: Sounds like Tommy Rupert had it coming. Good for you for making him eat that brown crayon. The time I got to be boss was in fourth grade. We had a substitute who called me Dorothy because she said that I looked like Judy Garland in "The Wizard of Oz". And she left the room and I didn't let Maggie play Cat Jeopardy and then when my real teacher came back he took me in the hall and told me that I would never have any friends if I banned people from playing Cat Jeopardy. Being the boss is not all it's cracked up to be, huh?

Brenda Osler: You have absolutely no idea how happy it made me that you "cheers"-ed me. I've never been "cheers"-ed before. Cheers right back atcha! I'm glad you're enjoying it! ;)

Dulcey: Another lovely review! You kick ass!

And thanks so much to everyone else! Especially Cynda, with the encouraging "at least there are no typos". That was very enlightening. Brilliant, really.High five to you.

Okay! Here we go! Please review again!!! You're all awesome! ;)

xoxo

Chapter 14: The New Year

The first day of school was met with more disappointment than usual. Sandy looked almost comically miserable slumped over his cup of coffee at the island, Ryan observed, but the second the door opened he perked up.

"Morning, kid," he said, attempting cheerfulness and failing for the most part. Part of Ryan wanted to tell Sandy that it was okay to him to act upset, that his sadness was justified and this was his own home where he should have been able to act how he wanted. But a larger part felt very uncomfortable and that part told him to play along.

"Morning." He got himself a bagel and sat down across from Sandy, grabbing the sports section of the paper so he could have something to distract him from the awkward silence. Sandy focused his eyes just above the upper-left headline of the business section and was able to revert to his thoughts without appearing too suspicious. Kirsten came down a minute later, examining the two of them sadly, and went for some coffee.

"Morning, boys." Her voice was especially perky as she kissed Sandy on the head. "Ryan, you look nice." Ryan gave himself an uncertain once-over and glanced up at her, confused.

"Uh, thanks? You too." She smiled.

"I meant...you know. New clothes, new bag, new books. You look ready." She studied him. "Are you ready?"

"I guess," he shrugged. "I mean...first day of school. Not so much about being ready as it is about...dealing with it?"

"Fair enough."

"How're you feeling, honey?" Sandy asked Kirsten, standing up. She glanced over at him warily.

"Fine. Great," she said quickly without looking at Ryan, hoping Sandy would take the hint. She didn't want to think about this now, and she definitely didn't want Ryan involved.

"What's the matter?" Ryan asked.

"Nothing," Kirsten said, smiling tightly.

"She's been throwing up," Sandy explained.

"Bad Thai. I'm fine," she said firmly, looking hard at Sandy. He backed off.

"So, there's a senior in my kitchen." He patted Ryan roughly on the shoulder. "This is a big year, kid."

"Yep," Ryan agreed.

"Senior year," he mused, leaning against the counter with a fresh cup of coffee. "Seth's been looking forward to his senior year since he was eight. You'd think this would be a moment he wouldn't want to miss."

"Sandy," Kirsten said quietly.

"It's just ironic," he said, shrugging.

"Not really," she said warningly.

"Well, I think so. And we're supposed to be opening up more, right? 'Creating a comfortable conversational flow'? And, you know, in case you haven't heard, Dr. Mercer is the most highly praised psychologist in California." Ryan looked uncomfortable and Kirsten shot a deliberate glare at Sandy.

"Sandy."

"What?" He sounded like a kid, challenging her, and she looked surprised.

"I..." When she saw Ryan looking at her, she flashed him a small smile and then placed a comforting hand on Sandy's shoulder. "Ryan got Mr. Lerner for English," she informed, and Sandy seemed to snap out of his immaturity.

"Man, what did you do to deserve that?"

"That's inspiring feedback," Ryan commented dryly.

"When Seth was a freshman he made him reread _Moby Dick_ four times because his annotations weren't detailed enough," Kirsten explained.

"And he called security on Kirsten during a parent-teacher conference," Sandy added. Ryan laughing, looking at her for confirmation. She blushed.

"He threatened to. He didn't actually call anyone."

"Kirsten called him a self-important prick," Sandy elaborated, nudging her.

"So basically I'm screwed?" Ryan asked.

"Hey, your last name isn't Cohen. You can probably stay on his good side until he finds out you're related to Kirsten."

Sandy picked up his briefcase. "So, kid, are you ready to go, or what?"

"Yeah, just let me go get my stuff." Ryan went out to the pool house, leaving Sandy and Kirsten alone.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, turning to her. "For acting like such a jerk to you. You don't need that. I was just..."

"It's okay."

"It's was so important to him, you know? For the past three years, he was so ambitious about his schoolwork, and for him to be missing the first day of one the most critical high school years..."

"I know," she whispered, taking his hands. "It makes it more real."

"I didn't think that was possible," he said with a short laugh. She smiled cynically.

"Me either."


	15. The Way It Is

This chapter title belongs to the Strokes, their vast collection of vintage t-shirts, and their unwashed hair! ;)

xoxo

Chapter 15: The Way It Is

Dr. Mercer was smarmy and wiry and wearing an unfortunate bowtie, but they gave him the benefit of the doubt and sat on his leather couch.

"We're just...on-edge. Our lives have basically been...well, not smooth sailing, but pretty standard. I don't really know how to deal with what's going on," Sandy explained to the best of his abilities during their third session. "We both sort of reverted to a safe mode. For Kirsten, that's being busy. She's neurotic and she's upset, but she gets into her work and distracts herself."

"And how do you deal with it?" Dr. Mercer asked.

"I don't know," Sandy said thoughtfully. "I mean...he's on my mind twenty-four hours a day, but I've got work and I've got my family. I guess I get caught up with that, too."

"And what are your thoughts on this, Kirsten?"

"I don't know how I'm supposed to act," she said quietly, her hands folded in her lap.

"How you're supposed to act?" Dr. Mercer cocked his head and gestured for her to elaborate.

"There's...protocol. For all other sorts of situations, there are unwritten laws on how you're supposed to act. But this..." She sighed, sounding frustrated. "For this, I don't know whether I'm supposed to be grieving or frantic or...just okay with everything."

"Well, how do you feel like acting?"

"I don't know. I feel numb. Sometimes I feel like he's just out skateboarding or something and he'll be home in a few minutes, and then when I realize he's not I feel like I should be doing more. Or...feeling more."

"Do you think Seth's going to come back?" Dr. Mercer asked, and Kirsten froze. "Just your personal opinion. Your instincts."

"I...can't think about it like that."

"Like what?"

"I can't question it, because the possibility that he won't..." She trailed off, her voice hoarse.

"And you, Sandy?"

"A big part of me likes to think that he will," Sandy replied. "But these dreams that I have...I mean, they've gotta be saying something about what I'm really thinking, right?"

"Not necessarily." Dr. Mercer played with his pen. "Well, let me ask you this, then. Hypothetically, would you be surprised if Seth came home, do you think?"

"Yes," Sandy said softly.

"What about you, Kirsten?"

"I would." She nodded.

"So you're living these lives, getting on with your work, all while thinking that your son is most likely not coming home. Is that fair to say?" Sandy offered a slight shrug in response. "And how is this affecting your foster son?"

"Ryan's..." Sandy stopped, at a loss for words.

"We haven't really discussed it with him," Kirsten admitted.

"He's a pretty easygoing kid."

"Have you considered that maybe you should discuss it with him?" Dr. Mercer asked. "Maybe if all three of you address what's going on and how you're feeling about it, there'll be fewer eggshells to walk on."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kirsten was still fuming when she got home from work that evening, offended by what she viewed as Dr. Mercer's attack on her parenting skills.

"'Fewer eggshells'? What does that even mean?" she had angrily asked Sandy on their way out. "Who said anything about eggshells in the first place?" Now, though, she entered the kitchen and found Ryan standing at the stove, and she began to question her skepticism. Maybe he did need to talk about his feelings. Maybe they weren't offering him enough opportunities.

"Hey, sweetie," she greeted, setting down her briefcase.

"Hey." He gestured to the kitchen table. "Have a seat. I made dinner." She smiled, sliding into a chair.

"You cooked?"

"One of the perks of my lack of blood relation to this family." He grinned, setting a sandwich in front of her. "Grilled cheese. I hope that's okay. Sandy has a dinner tonight with the firm, so I thought..."

"Oh, this is great. Thanks, honey." He sat down across from her. "So, how was school? How's it going so far?"

"It's okay." He shrugged. "A little weird. I mean, I was never Harbor's most popular guy, but now that...um...you know, Luke and Marissa and...everyone are gone, it's pretty quiet for me." He wouldn't look at her and she realized that maybe Dr. Mercer was right after all. She wanted Ryan to feel comfortable saying Seth's name.

"Oh, Ryan, I'm sorry. I hadn't even...god. That's a hard school to find your place in, isn't it?"

"How did you do it when you went there?" he asked. She laughed a little, blushing.

"I didn't. I mean...I had Jimmy, and I had a few acquaintances, but I was quiet. Very quiet."

"You? Really? I mean, you seem so...social."

"It's something I grew into. Socializing as an adult is much easier than doing it at a private high school."

"That's a relief."

"I thought so." She smiled. "What about Summer? Have you seen her around?"

"We have a couple of classes together. It's nice."

"That's good."

"She has a boyfriend," Ryan said quietly, unsure of whether he was supposed to tell her this or not.

"Oh." Kirsten played with her napkin and then nodded firmly. "That's good. I mean...I'm happy that she's able to do that. Summer's a nice girl. She deserves to be happy."

"Yeah." Ryan gave her a small smile. She cleared her throat to break the awkward silence.

"This is an amazing grilled cheese. Seriously. We should have gotten you in on Sandy's restaurant. This could have been the sandwich that saved the Lighthouse."

"Glad you like it." They ate in silence for a few moments and then Kirsten stood up to get herself a glass of water. One she wasn't directly facing him and forced to make eye contact, she spoke.

"Do you think he's coming back, Ryan?"

"I...uh..." Ryan sputtered, furrowing his eyebrows. "You mean...Seth?"

"Yes. Seth." At once she felt bad for putting him on the spot. "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that. I was trying to...our therapist said that we should get your insight on everything and...I've just made you totally uncomfortable. I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," he said quickly. "You just...caught me off guard. I'm okay to talk about it." She sat back down with her drink.

"Really?" She smiled, relieved.

"Sure. I...yeah, Kirsten, I do think he's coming back."

"You do."

"Seth's smart. He knows how lucky he is."

"And you don't think he's..." The word 'dead' froze on her tongue, but Ryan knew what she was asking.

"I think he'll come home," he said firmly. "Eventually."

"It's really nice to hear you say that." Suddenly she paled and jumped from her seat. "Excuse me for just a second, Ryan." He watched her duck into the bathroom and winced as he heard her retching. He slowly followed her in and reached for her hair to hold it back. She finished and rinsed out her mouth, giving him a weak smile. "Thanks, honey. Sorry about that. I hope you won't take it personally. That really was the best grilled cheese ever." Ryan, not amused, watched her make her way back to her seat at the table.

"Kirsten, what's going on?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." She forced herself to sound animated but knew that he could see right though her.

"Sandy said this was going on a week ago."

"Yeah, I know. I'm fine, though, really."

"That isn't normal," he said. "Throwing up every day isn't normal."

"I'm fine, Ryan. Trust me."

"You can't just brush this off. You have to take care of yourself."

"I am."

"Not if you're throwing up every day!"

"Ryan, please. You're just going to have to take my word on this one."

"You made me go to the doctor when I had the flu last year," Ryan challenged. "I was throwing up and you made me go 'just in case'." She was surprised by his insistence.

"I did go to the doctor, Ryan. I assure you that I'm okay."

"What did the doctor say?" She opened her mouth, then paused.

"I haven't actually told anyone this yet."

"Told anyone what?" He looked worried, actually afraid, and she smiled.

"I'm pregnant." Ryan froze, and then an identical smile found its way onto his face.

"God, you...scared me! That's great, Kirsten. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"You haven't told Sandy yet?"

"Ah...no. Not yet."

"Why not?"

"Good question." She smiled meekly and shrugged.

"He's going be thrilled, Kirsten."

"Yeah. Yeah...I hope so."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Huh. She HOPES so. What will happen? I just don't know...

Sorry. I'll post another follow-up chapter ASAP. Right now I need to get to sleep, because I need to wake up at 5:30 so I can get a decent run in tomorrow morning...because unfortunate beasts like myself need to run a lot to try and travel down the path of un-beast-osity. But I'll get right on the next chapter. Assuming you want to know what happens. And, hey, we all know what assuming does. (It makes an ASS out of U and ME, in case you were wondering.)

Oh, fuck. Now I just became one of the aforementioned people that use "U" instead of "you". Ah, well. Please review. ;)

xoxo


	16. A Break in the Clouds

Hey there!!! Okay, this update is fairly short and fairly insignificant...but it's just...I don't know. Something light and pleasant to tide you over...because it may be awhile before I can make another update. We're having major work done at my house so there are going to be random men in tank tops wandering around here for the next couple of weeks, and our entire first floor is basically going to be off-limits. I can probably work from my laptop, but just in case I can't, you have been forewarned.

A couple of shout-outs:

Dulcey: I feel very proud that you like my story so much, because I absolutely adore yours. ;) Also, I appreciate your tolerance of the unfortunate bowtie. I am not so accepting of those challenged in the appearance department. By that I mean I fired my last therapist because she looked like Dorothy from "The Golden Girls". I have a feeling that probably doesn't say anything good about my character. But whatever. She was stupid, anyways. (Did I also discuss how very mature I am? And kind, too?) Okay. Aside from my rude judgment of basically the entire population, I thank you for your lengthy review. I really appreciate that you take the time to let me know your thoughts. You're awesome! ;)

Princess Oats 435: It's very okay that you crossed over onto the dark and scary side. I believe I made that jump after reading about ten words of your first story I ever read. The dark and scary side is surprisingly enjoyable. And Perfection? Are you fucking kidding me? I was absolutely in love with that game. My Sad Perfection Story is that I never had anyone to play with, and I was afraid of the whole board-exploding thing...so I used to play by myself without the timer on. Meaning I defeated all conventional purposes of that game. I still had a blast, though, and I suppose that's really the point. Kind of. Anyways, another spectacular review—you're awesome! Ramble all you want, I looove it. ;)

Brenda Osler: Unbelievable. I got ANOTHER "cheers"? I feel incredibly lucky. It's like Christmas. Cheers right back atcha once again. ;)

Rachel: My condolences to your friend who got dumped. That sucks. ;( Also, I agree with your suggestion of more Summer—keep an eye out for her in...probably the next chapter. Thanks for your thoughts! ;)

And Liz, Ally, Julie, and Christina? You guys are awesome, too! Thanks so much for taking the time to review! ;)

Okay. What else is there to say? Um...well, my personal feeling is that my writing in this chapter got a little out-of-character...but I can't help but ramble and insert strange not-so-popular cultural banter sometimes. I just sort of had fun with it. And, wow. I've been talking for about six hours. Wrapping up...this chapter title belongs to the Jayhawks, who are awesome. Please leave me some more reviews! I love them like crazy! I'll try my best to update soon, and I'll tell you that there is going to be some controversy in future chapters. Why? Because controversy is raw, of course! Okay! I'm done! Please review!

xoxo

Chapter 16: A Break in the Clouds

She was lying awake in bed, staring up the ceiling when he got home.

"Hey, honey," he said in a whisper, sliding out of his jacket. "Dinner with a new associate. Sorry I'm late." She smiled as she watched him unbutton his shirt. "This new guy—I swear to god he looked fifteen. I mean, I had a hard time buying that he was out of high school. Twenty-nine, though. Unbelievable. He made me feel old."

"Wow," she said vaguely.

"Two hours of small talk and I am exhausted!" He pulled on a t-shirt.

"Hey, Sandy?"

"Yeah, hon?" He climbed into bed next to her and pulled her closer to him.

"I have to tell you something." She pulled herself into a sitting position and he warily followed suit, looking concerned.

"What's going on?"

"I...I'm not quite sure how to say this." She took a deep breath. "It's...big."

"Please tell me that this has nothing to do with Jimmy Cooper." She smiled weakly.

"This has nothing to do with Jimmy Cooper."

"Oh, thank god. Because...man, I'm trying to like the guy, but it's kind of hard to be nice to someone who keeps putting the—"

"I'm pregnant." He looked at her.

"Are you doing that thing where you think I'm rambling so you say something shocking to get me to be quiet but it's really just some lie you made up to get me to—"

"Sandy," she said firmly, looking him in the eye. She took his hand and put it on her stomach. "I'm pregnant." He looked from his hand up to her face, a smile slowly forming. She laughed nervously. "Are you happy?"

"I'm...delighted," he said, taking her head in his hands and kissing her. "I'm giddy. I don't know that I've ever been giddy before, but I am. I'm giddy. God, sweetheart, 'happy' doesn't even begin to...wow. Wow. How far along are you?"

"Around twelve weeks."

"Wow."

"You're doing a lot of wowing," she commented.

"No other words seem quite right," he replied, grinning.

"We're kind of old," she said doubtfully.

"But we're young at heart! And we're not that old..."

"Sandy?"

"Yeah?"

"Doesn't it seem sort of...like we shouldn't be this excited?" She looked away, ashamed, and he put a hand on her back.

"It does," he agreed. "But..." She glanced at him expectantly and he laughed. "But this is fantastic, honey! And it's another child who needs our love and support. It's our responsibility to be excited. It wouldn't be fair to deprive Sanford Jr. the anticipation he deserves!"

"We are not naming it after you."

"Why not? It's a good name! Strong! And original. Except for the whole...it-being-my-name part."

"Juniors always turn out creepy. There's a weird...junior complex or something. Have you ever met a normal junior?"

He considered it and she watched as his face wrinkled with disgust.

"Larry Billings Jr. He's in the office next to me. He smells like Jell-O."

"My point exactly."

"Hey! Wait! No! What about...Robert Downey Jr.?"

"He did some time, I believe. And that Elton John video."

"Harry Connick Jr.? He's got a nice set of pipes."

"No, he doesn't."

"Cuba Gooding Jr."

"Need I remind you of 'Snow Dogs'?"

"You're quick. I have to hand it to you. Despite the whole hormones thing...you're a fast one."

"Watch it or we're naming it after my father."

"Thank you for putting a delightful image of an infant with Caleb's head in my mind." She smiled, leaning over to kiss him.

"My pleasure."


	17. A Summer Wasting

Okay. I'm back! Sorry I said that I would try to hurry up and now it's like 15 years later...but...well, I brought two long-ish chapters with me this time, so hopefully they will compensate. First things first: "A Summer Wasting" belongs to Belle & Sebastian, and "Edit the Sad Parts" belongs to Modest Mouse. And by the way? Puns with "summer" in them are really quite entertaining, and I will warn you that I may make another chapter with the word in the title.

Anyways...I hope everyone had a fantastic Christmas or Hanukkah or Chrismukkah or Kwanzaa or Diwali...I have always included Diwali in my holiday greetings because since I was 4, I've gone to school with this kid who celebrated Diwali so we always had to acknowledge it and, like, make Diwali ornaments for our paper Christmas trees or to put on our menorahs. So I hope someone reading celebrates it because I've never actually met anyone aside from this kid who does and it would be nice to make a sincere holiday wish.

And thanks for the reviews, guys, you're fucking awesome and I really appreciate them. And you will be glad to know that our remodel is finally finished...so until my parents get sick of our kitchen or one of the guest rooms there will be no frightening men in tank tops lurking around my house with hammers and drills and paintbrushes, which means that I will have no interruptions and my computer will not be put into the room above the garage, forcing me to use my laptop, which I HATE. In simpler terms: no more month-long hiatuses from this story. ;)

Please read and review...I hope you enjoy! ;)

xoxo

Chapter 17: A Summer Wasting

Sandy was lying with his head on her stomach a week or so later, one of his hands absently playing with one of hers.

"What about Sly?" She smiled vaguely, the majority of her attention focused on an editorial in Vogue.

"Yes, a child named Sly would never encounter any problems."

"It's true! Nobody messes with Sly."

"If you're that sold, you could legally change your own name."

"Maybe I will," he challenged, pouting.

"I like more traditional names."

"Remember..." he trailed off, shaking his head.

"What?" she asked, intrigued.

"Forget it." He smiled up at her.

"Now you have to tell me." He sighed, easily defeated.

"I was just thinking about that time when Seth was little and he begged us to have another baby and name it after him so we could introduce them as our sons Seth and Seth and nobody would be able to tell which Seth name was intended for which Seth child." Kirsten laughed abruptly and then felt her eyes filling with tears. Sandy instantly regretted his recollection. "Never mind, hon. I'm not suggesting that we name it after Seth. I'm just playing around. Considering all the options. Forget I said anything. Why don't we think of some girl names? I've always been fond of Hannah."

"No, no. It's just...me. I'm fine. I don't know why I'm..." she shook her head and hastily brushed a hand across her eyes. "He was just such a great little boy and I feel like there's something that I...should have seen. To predict this."

"No, sweetie, no. That's not what I meant at all." He sat up slightly, looking her in the eye. She sighed and forced a smile, brushing back his hair with her hand and easing his head down again.

"Hannah, huh?"

"It's a palindrome," he pointed out, quick to shift gears with her. She nodded her agreement just as Ryan appeared in the doorway.

"Aah...sorry." Sandy sat up and spotted Summer behind Ryan.

"Hey. Hello, Summer." Kirsten blushed, straightening.

"Hi, Summer."

"Sorry to interrupt," Ryan said as Summer offered a polite wave.

"Hey, no, we were just talking," Sandy dismissed.

"Ryan told me about the baby. Congratulations, guys," Summer said.

"Thanks," Kirsten smiled. "What's going on? Do you guys need something?"

"We had to work on a history project, but Summer's dad dropped her off on his way out and now she needs a ride home. Can I borrow a car?"

"I'll drive you," Kirsten offered brightly.

"No, Kirsten, I didn't mean...you should rest," Ryan said quickly. Kirsten smiled at his concern.

"Thanks, sweetie, but I'll have plenty of time for that...actually, probably about two years of it, considering the fact that my father is my boss and when it comes to the rearing of potential future tycoons for the great Nichol empire he will demand the utmost precaution. I'm happy to drive you, Summer."

"A ride would be great. Thanks, Mrs. Cohen." Summer hoped that her delight over getting a ride home from Kirsten wasn't terribly obvious. One of the things she missed about Seth was being able to hang out with his parents. As weird as it sounded, she basked in the glory that was the Cohen family. They were perfect, and the complete opposite of the dysfunctional Roberts household. She snuck a glance at Kirsten in the driver's seat and found herself very surprised by how together she looked. That was one of the things she envied about her; her ability to exist as a high-functioning wife, mother, and career woman even amid the seriously screwed-up circumstances that were handed to her.

"So...how are you?" Summer asked awkwardly. Kirsten shrugged, smiling at her.

"I'm okay. How are you?"

"Fine," Summer agreed.

"School going okay?"

"Yeah, I guess. It's a little weird."

"Ryan said the same thing."

"Being at school just seems kind of wrong. Like, sitting in English while my best friend is in rehab and my boy—well, I mean, he's not my...my ex—well, no, I—Seth," she finished, exasperated.

"I know how you feel."

"Everyone knows that Coop's an alcoholic and Cohen disappeared. I feel like everyone's always talking about me. And, god, what's more humiliating than not only getting dumped, but having your boyfriend totally flee the state?" Kirsten turned a corner and Summer glanced around, confused. "My house is that way."

"I know." Kirsten smiled. "I think we could both probably stand to talk about this, though. Maybe just drive around a bit?"

"Thanks, Mrs. Cohen."

"Thank you. And Kirsten, please." Summer nodded her acknowledgement and they continued on their drive in silence for a moment.

"Um...Kirsten?" Summer said quietly.

"Yep?"

"I have a boyfriend," Summer spat out. "I just wanted you to know that because otherwise I would feel like a total liar and...I don't know if that's even something that would bother you or not, but—"

"Ryan already told me," Kirsten cut her off, smiling. "I think it's great, sweetie. To get on with your life."

"Is that what you're doing?" Summer asked. "With the baby?" Kirsten, suddenly slightly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken, played with the controls for her side mirror.

"Maybe," she said softly after a moment. "It was an accident, to be honest. But...yeah. I think in a way...we're not replacing Seth, but we're allowing ourselves to focus on something else."

"Are you excited?" Kirsten couldn't help but smile.

"I am. It feels good to have something this big to look forward to."

"Ryan's excited," Summer said.

"Really?"

"He says that he thinks a baby will hold you together as a family."

"I hope so. Sandy's beside himself."

"You aren't?" Kirsten sighed.

"I can't help but feel like...perhaps, in the wake of everything with Seth, this is not the best path for me to be embarking down right now."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not exactly the model parent," Kirsten explained, laughing dryly.

"Are you crazy?" Summer's enthusiasm startled her. "Coop and I always used to talk about how you were, like, the perfect mom and how we were so jealous of Seth and Ryan. And not just because we were comparing you to the Stepmonster and Julie Cooper but because you're seriously, like, the best mother ever. And I mean...well, this is so stupid and makes me sound like a total stalker, but I used to think about how if Cohen and I ever got married I would finally get to have a real mom." Summer blushed, laughing nervously. Kirsten opened her mouth to respond but Summer continued energetically. "Seth has never realized how lucky he is to have the relationship that he has with you and Mr. Cohen. He has never grasped the concept of how rare it is for parents to care about their children the way you guys care about him. You gave him the best life in the world and he definitely takes that for granted. Took. I don't know." She stopped to catch her breath and Kirsten took it as an opportunity to speak.

"Thanks, Summer," was all she could muster without crying, and she felt bad that she couldn't express her appreciation more. Summer didn't seem to notice, though, and had caught up with herself and began talking again.

"Regardless...he didn't leave because of you, Kirsten, or because of any mistakes you made. All you guys ever did was care about him and try to make him happy." Summer shook her head, looking down. "All I ever did until this year was help to make his life miserable."

"What are you talking about?" Summer took a deep breath and when she spoke her voice trembled.

"Cohen left because he couldn't even think of living his life the way it was before he met Ryan. He was that afraid of going back to his old life without his best friend."

"Honey, that has nothing to do with you," Kirsten protested.

"I was mean to him," she whispered. "I made his life hell along with all the other kids at school because it was easier that way. It's always been easier that way." Kirsten was quiet, looking straight ahead. "I watched someone beat him up once. Freshman year, on the first day of school. Luke and his friends were looking for someone to screw around with and they saw Seth at his locker and they...god, they were so mean to him. And Marissa yelled at them to stop but I was just standing there laughing. I don't know why I was laughing." When Kirsten didn't respond, Summer continued. "I never told him that. I pretended that I didn't know who he was before junior year. He left Newport because people like me got bored with themselves. He loved me so much and I was just waiting for him to realize that I didn't deserve it. I guess he finally did." Kirsten pulled over and turned to face her.

"Oh, sweetie, of course you deserve it." Summer shook her head, trying not to cry. "You came around, Summer. You lost sight of things for a little while but you found your way back. I think that makes you more deserving than anyone else." She leaned over and wrapped her arms around Summer, whose body was now racking with sobs. "The truth is, sweetie...we're blaming ourselves, but Seth left because of Seth. Not because of you or me. Just because we don't understand him doesn't mean we caused him to leave. We both did our best to make him happy and it didn't work. That doesn't mean we didn't try."

"I hate him," Summer said, calming down slightly. "And I hate that I hate him, but I do. I can't help it. He was the first guy I've ever actually loved, and I hate that he did this. But...I also miss him, you know? And I really want him back. Even after what he did."

"It's very confusing," Kirsten agreed, giving her a small smile. Their conversation was interrupted by Summer's cell phone.

"Hello?" Summer shot Kirsten an apologetic smile. "Oh my god, again?...This is like the third time this month!...No, I'm busy. I can't 't you just wait?...Fine. I'll be there in a couple minutes." She angrily folded her phone closed. "The Stepmonster locked herself out of the house again. She needs me to come and let her in." Kirsten nodded and shifted into drive, starting back towards Summer's house. "Sorry to cut this short," Summer said. "I liked this. Talking about it."

"Me too." Kirsten smiled. "Maybe we can pick up another time?"

"Definitely."

"And Summer..." Kirsten hesitated, feeling slightly self-conscious. "You don't have to marry Seth for you and I to have a relationship. My door is always open if you ever need to talk or anything, okay?" They pulled up in front of Summer's house.

"Thanks, Kirsten." Summer smiled, getting out of the car. She glanced at her stepmother, sitting on the front steps, and quickly turned to Kirsten again. "The same goes for me. I don't know how much of a help I am, but I'm a pretty decent listener."

"I know where you live," Kirsten said, half-joking. "Thanks, sweetie." She watched Summer meet her stepmother on the front step and wordlessly open the door for the woman, who said something incoherent but decidedly malicious, and she couldn't help but hate Seth a little bit too for abandoning probably the best girl he would ever know.


	18. Edit the Sad Parts

Chapter 18: Edit the Sad Parts

When he heard that Caleb Nichol was calling for him on line four, he told his secretary to take a message.

"Mr. Cohen? He says it's important. About the baby?"

"What?"

"Mr. Nichol says that he has to talk to you about the baby."

"She finally told him..." he muttered, thinking of the conversation he'd had with Kirsten the week before in which she expressed concerns over telling her father that she was pregnant. He sighed, prepared to defend Kirsten, and picked up the phone. "So, Cal, have you called to give me your blessing? Or perhaps a detailed and hypocritical lecture on the rules of fatherhood?"

"Sandy...she's in the hospital." Suddenly his blood ran cold, that much he was sure of.

"What do you mean? Why? Is she okay?"

"You need to get down here."

"Caleb, tell me Kirsten is okay."

"She's okay. She's fine. You just need to get here right away, okay?" He was out of his office in seconds.

"Mr. Cohen, congratulations! I didn't know there was a baby!" his secretary said cheerfully.

"I have to go," he said. "I need you to cancel everything for me. I have to leave right now."

He nearly got himself killed on his way to the hospital, but he managed to get inside in one piece.

"I'm looking for my wife? Kirsten Cohen? I don't know...I mean...she's blonde and...I guess that's not relevant...I don't know why she's here and I need to find her because—"

"Sandy." Caleb's hand landed firmly on his shoulder and the receptionist he had just ambushed went calmly back to her paperwork.

"Where is she, Caleb? What's going on?"

"Come here, Sanford," Caleb said softly, guiding him onto an elevator.

"You damn well better tell me what the hell is going on, Caleb," he snapped. Caleb waited for the doors to slide shut, enclosing them in the small elevator, then he turned to Sandy and cleared his throat.

"She miscarried," he said, his voice gravelly. "I'm sorry, Sandy."

"Where is she?" He was trying not to cry, wishing to god that Caleb Nichol was not the one delivering him the news that his baby was dead.

"Room four-fifteen," Caleb said as the doors slid open again, releasing them to the fourth floor. Sandy took off down the hall. "Pull yourself together, Sanford," Caleb called after him. "She needs you." The numbers on the doors blurred as he ran past them, stopping directly in front of the closed four-fifteen. He took several deep breaths before entering the room. Caleb, he was sorry to admit, was right. Kirsten needed him. He pushed open the door and the tears that he had worked so hard to hold back filled his eyes again.

"You're here," she said quietly, and he saw that she was crying herself. He wrapped his arms around her, hating how frail she looked.

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry." She buried her face in his chest.

"I'm so glad you're here."

"Always, baby." He stroked her hair. "What happened?" He sat down, his arms still encircling her.

"I don't know. I passed out, and my dad found me and..." She drew in a shaky breath. "The doctor said it isn't uncommon this early."

"Were you in a lot of pain?"

"Not that I can remember."

"Thank god you're all right." He kissed her forehead. "Does Ryan know?"

"No."

"It's probably best that Caleb didn't field that one. He's not exactly Mr. Compassion," Sandy said, though he appreciated the dignity Caleb had displayed when breaking the news to him. "I'll call him when he gets out of school."

"I just feel so stupid. I'm so sorry, Sandy."

"You haven't done anything wrong, hon." She looked down at her hands and nodded slowly.

"Yes, I have."

"What do you mean?"

"I was under so much stress...and I drank, and I took sleeping pills and I created the worst possible environment for a baby. I killed it."

"No, honey, no. You couldn't have known. There's no way you could have known." He brushed her hair away from her face and looked her in the eye. "Things happen for a reason, sweetheart. Maybe the world could only handle one fantastic Nichol-Cohen collaboration, huh?"

"I was excited," she whispered.

"I know, honey, me too." Suddenly the door opened and a wide-eyed Ryan came in looking scared.

"Hey, kid." Sandy stood up. "Caleb called you?"

"Julie Cooper," Ryan said quietly.

"Thanks for coming, sweetie," Kirsten offered, brushing away tears.

"I...are you...okay?" She nodded, giving him a sad smile.

"I'm fine."

"I'm really sorry, Kirsten."

"Thank you, honey."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"I could use some company," she said, patting the empty spot on the bed on the side of her opposite Sandy. He inched over, lingering by the bed. "It's safe, I promise," she whispered, smiling. He gingerly sat down.

"She won't break. I practically assaulted her when I got here. The woman is made of steel," Sandy teased. Ryan smiled slightly and took this as an incentive to give Kirsten a hug. He was surprised at the strength of the embrace she returned, and how long it lasted. When she finally let go he saw that she was crying.

"Thank you for being here," she said earnestly, taking his hand.

"Of course," he replied, and she smiled. Ryan reached into his backpack and produced a skimpy bouquet of carnations. "Here. I wasn't sure...Julie told me you'd like these. Sorry they aren't more...attractive." She laughed, taking them.

"Thanks, Ryan." The door opened again and this time Caleb entered, glancing warily at Ryan.

"Kiki, how're you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she said, nodding.

"Can I get you anything?"

"No, thanks, Dad. Tell Julie thanks for picking up Ryan." Caleb raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly.

"I'll let her know." He turned to leave but paused. "Ryan, can I speak with you in the hall for a minute?" Kirsten looked at her father quizzically but he didn't respond. A wide-eyed Ryan trailed him into the hallway.

"What's going on, Mr. Nichol?"

"I know that you and I haven't exactly had the best of encounters since you've moved here," Caleb said gruffly. He didn't speak and Ryan nodded uncertainly.

"Yes, sir."

"I just wanted to thank you," he said. "Kirsten obviously cares a great deal for you and you're there for her. I know that things are difficult for her without Seth around, and I think you...you make her happy. So thank you." Caleb awkwardly offered his hand and Ryan cautiously reached out and shook.

"You're...welcome. Thank you, Mr. Nichol." Caleb forced a smile and nodded quickly.

"All right. Well...go in and see her. I know she's glad to have you here."


	19. Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

Okay. I'm back. And I'm going to use a bit of this space to extend a personal message to Princess Oats. Wow, you are totally fantastic and I'm LOVING both of your stories right now. Sadly, I am having the same review problem that you mentioned and I was not allowed to let you know this for either of your most recent updates. So I'm doing it here. You kick ass and PLEASE update soon because you are ridiculously awesome. ;) Also? Thanks for yet another lovely review. I appreciate your taking the time, especially because I totally look like a...deadbeat reviewer now. But I promise it was only because of technical difficulties.

A couple more acknowledgements for the longer reviews...

Brenda Osler: I don't really know why I chose to do what I did in the last chapter. I mean, I will be perfectly honest and share with you that babies kind of weird me out a little bit sometimes. Especially that baby in the new Quizno's commercial? The one that talks? But aside from him...and other talking babies...I find babies to be delightful creatures. So why did I chose to abandon the new Cohen? That's a very good question. Part of me is regretting it. But I suppose that they teach you to be confident with the choices you make when you're writing...? Oh, well. I just don't know. But I'll try to redeem myself for you. ;) Thanks for another killer review, you're awesome! ;)

Dulcey: Whoa. I am totally up for becoming your partner in crime. Name the time and the place and I'll be there with a net. (Because I'm not at all creepy or anything...)

Rachel: I'm so sorry about your siblings—that's awful.:( I'm glad you're liking the story and I hope you had a happy new year, as well!

kirsten cohen: Wow, words cannot express how flattered I am that you like this story! I looove all of your stories and you are totally awesome—so it was very, very cool to hear that you like this. Thanks so much! ;)

Alexandra Bruderlin: That was quite a review and I am ridiculously flattered. Your first non-flame review? That's very, very kind of you. ;) Thanks for the suggestions, also—I tried to make this chapter a little longer than I've been making the others. Let me know your thoughts. Again, thanks so much! I'm honored! ;)

Okay. And that about does it. Thanks for the reviews, guys, you are fantastic. And I realize that it's lame to put this song in for the latest chapter for 2 reasons:

a.) because it was played on "The O.C." awhile back

b.) because new U2 is basically a huge joke and no, Bono, you are NOT Spanish

But still. I am a fan of this song. Even though it is apparently about Bono and his dad. Who knew that Bono even had a dad? I believe it was...Time? Some fairly serious publication, whatever—that proposed the theory that Bono is, in fact, God. To that I say HA. And, again, BONO, YOU ARE NOT SPANISH. Or God. Regardless. I like this song and I liked it when they played it on the show and the title fits. So there ya go.

Please review some more! You're awesome! ;)

xoxo

Chapter 19: Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own

She strolled into the kitchen the following Monday and went straight for a cup of coffee, ignoring the stunned looks she was getting from both Sandy and Ryan.

"Morning," she said brightly, reaching over Ryan's shoulder for the business section. "You need a ride to school today, sweetie?"

"I...uh...Kirsten, you..." Kirsten's face remained remarkably blank and Ryan turned to Sandy for backup.

"Honey, what are you doing?" Sandy asked plainly.

"What do you mean?" She took a disinterested glance at the newspaper in her hand.

"You aren't going to work, are you?" Ryan asked.

"Of course I am. It's Monday, isn't it?"

"That's...kind of the point, hon. It's only Monday."

"I have a meeting," Kirsten said simply.

"I'm sure your father can handle it," Sandy suggested.

"No. I mean, he could, but I'll have better luck. As sexist as it sounds, this client will be much more easily swayed by a woman. And though I don't like to be viewed by colleagues as a sexual object, we really need this guy." She spoke distractedly, scanning over an article. "So are you going to need a ride or not, Ryan?"

"I'll take a ride," Sandy spoke up. He nodded at his keys on the counter. "Take the BMW, Ryan." Ryan nodded, taking the hint, and jumped up.

"Thanks. I'll see you guys tonight. Uh...good luck with your meeting, Kirsten."

"Thank you, sweetie." She waited until Ryan left, then turned to Sandy, placing a hand on her hip. "Your office is in the complete opposite direction!"

"You aren't going to work," Sandy said firmly.

"Of course I am! Granted, now I'm going to be late. Why did you give Ryan your car? I told you I have a meeting and I need to—"

"Kirsten. You are not going to work."

"Sandy. Yes, I am," she replied, exasperatedly mocking him.

"Hey, why don't I..." He considered his plan, then took her hands. "I'll call in sick! We both can, though I doubt you even need to make a phone call, and we'll be unbelievably lazy and watch...Jeopardy! And lay out by the pool! Huh? It sounds good to me." She smiled at him.

"It sounds good to me too, honey, but I have a meeting."

"Please don't do this, Kirsten. Please don't throw yourself back into your career so fast. Just give it time. There are repercussions with things like this. Emotional backlash. You need to take care of yourself."

"I am," she assured, touching his face along his jaw line. "I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine. I've dealt with it. I'm taking care of myself. I promise."

"Kirsten..."

"I promise," she said, busying herself with rifling through her briefcase. "I'm going to be late. We should go."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

As soon as Kirsten pulled away from the lobby of the firm, Sandy pulled out his cell phone.

"Sandman! This is an early call!" Caleb's voice was more pleasant than normal; Sandy assumed that his tiny heart was attempting to manufacture compassion.

"I need a favor that you're not gonna like and Kirsten's gonna hate."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"She's on her way to work, Cal."

"So soon? She should be resting?"

"I agree...which is why I need you to send her home."

"I can't send her home, Sandy. Technically, I'm her boss, but...you know Kiki."

"I do know Kiki," Sandy said, unable to contain slight mockery. "And I know that she needs to be come right now. Away from the Newport Group."

"Look, Sandy, I don't even—"

"She'll break down. Emotionally, she can't handle this. First Seth, now...this. It won't end well unless she takes some time off. I hate calling you, Cal, for more reasons that one, but I'm really worried. She's my whole world, and I know she's yours, too. I need you to do this for her."

"And for you?" Caleb's voice was taunting and Sandy sighed.

"Yes, Caleb, for me too." There was a pause, then Caleb cleared his throat.

"I'll call her right now."

"I owe you," Sandy said gratefully.

"Naah," Caleb said. "Actually...you do, because if there's one thing I hate it's upsetting Kiki...but I'm going to ask in return..."

"What?" Sandy said wearily.

"Be there when she gets home."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He called a cab and managed to beat her home. He was sitting on the couch waiting when she came in.

"Hey, honey!"

"You called my father," she said incredulously, slamming the front door behind her. "You went behind my back and conspired with my father to keep me home from work? This is unbelievable, Sandy. I'm not a child."

"Sweetheart, you're very vulnerable right now. You don't need to be taking on a bunch of suits, you need to be—"

"I need to be doing what I feel like doing. I feel like working, Sandy. I feel like going to my meeting and doing my job. I don't feel like sitting around the house thinking about how much life sucks for me right now. And thanks to you that's all I'll be doing for the next week."

"Kirsten..."

"I told you that I was fine. I'm an adult, Sandy. Evidently I'm the only person who's aware of that." She started up the stairs and he rose to follow her but she held up a hand to stop him. "No, Sandy. You're supposed to support me. You're supposed to understand me. You're supposed to respect me. You haven't done any of that. I really don't want to be around you right now." He staggered slightly as he watched her enter their bedroom and close the door, feeling like he'd been punched. Kirsten very rarely got seriously angry with him. Little arguments about charity events or family issues were frequent, but 'I really don't want to be around you' was not. He dejectedly sank back into the couch just as his cell phone rang.

"Sandy Cohen."

"She's mad, Sanford," Caleb informed. Sandy sighed.

"Yeah, I got that."

He attempted to visit her awhile later but she denied his knock coldly. He retreated to the Playstation and took out some of his stress playing one of Ryan's games that appeared to revolve around elves. He became so immersed in his game that he didn't notice her watching him from the doorway awhile later.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked, and he jumped.

"No! Absolutely not!" She gingerly entered the room and, to Sandy's disappointment, took a seat across the room, farther away from him that he would have liked.

"I just...I wanted to apologize for how I acted. You were concerned. And while I still don't appreciate the unholy alliance you formed with my father in order to conspire behind my back, I know that you did it because you're worried about me."

"I'm sorry, honey. I just don't want to see you get hurt any more than you already are."

"Okay," she whispered.

"How are you feeling?" She shrugged weakly.

"Sort of sad?"

"Me too, hon." He patted the seat next to him and she smiled slightly, moving over to him. He gently put an arm around her. "Remember all that about this being a test?"

"Worst test ever."

"We'll get through this, honey, I promise you."

"It's not fair."

"Agreed."

"I feel like we should be immune to some of this. God, this is Newport Beach. We live with..."

"The genetically and cosmetically perfected percentage of the human race?"

"With less sarcasm and a little elaboration to make me sound less shallow? Yes. This town...is externally flawless—"

"Save a few nose jobs gone horribly, horribly wrong," Sandy cut in, smiling. Kirsten rolled her eyes and continued.

"I just feel like if everyone else can pretend to be perfect, we should be able to, too."

"Oh, honey, the moment I met you I fell in love with how real you are. You take everything that gets thrown at you and you deal with it. Even in a community chock-full of Julie Coopers. You take it all in stride."

"Do I? Is that why I'm going to be sitting around the house for the next week? God, my dad wouldn't even let me bring any files with so I could work from home"

"Taking it in stride doesn't mean working to distract yourself. You've been working yourself like crazy, sweetheart. You could use a break."

"I don't take breaks," she said resolutely, shaking her head. "I don't know how."

"Think of something fun. Something you've been wanting to do but haven't had the time to."

"There's a bunch of mail to go through," she mused. "And all of those files in the attic that my mom left for me? Remember? With the records from—"

"Kirsten, come on. I said _fun_. What if I took some vacation days and we went to...San Francisco? Get in some surfing lessons, hang out, sightsee. You love the sightsee, yes?"

"Not happening."

"The surfing or the sightseeing?"

"Both. What about Ryan?"

"He could come with! He's barely been anywhere!"

"Sandy, no. I can't stomach that kind of spontaneity. Maybe over winter break? We'll pre-plan and take Ryan somewhere nice."

"Live a little, sweetheart!"

"He has school. You know how it was when Seth was out sick for...a half day, even. The makeup work is ridiculous."

"You and me, then. We'll give Ryan a little alone time. House to himself."

"No."

"What if I promise...to plan everything thoroughly? And I get it all set and handle everything and make sure that Ryan is incredibly safe at home alone?" She looked at him skeptically and opened her mouth, but he held up a hand. "I promise, honey. I promise you'll really like where I want to take you."

"I don't know, Sandy..." He took her head in his hands.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do. I just—"

"I promise you'll be happy." She paused, then sighed, fighting off a smile.

"Okay. But no surfing."


	20. Assessment

Okay. This is an astronomically long chapter for me. I hope you like it. It gets a little...dramatic at the end. And anger is a hard thing for me to write. I try to avoid angry exclamation marks at all costs, and I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Regardless, thanks so much for all of the lovely reviews you sent along. Please keep up the good work. ;) And just to clarify...the Claremont is actually a hotel in Berkeley, but I have no idea whether there is actually a street called Greenwich or not. Just in case there are any, like, western California experts out there who might spot my potential error. ;)

As for the title of this chapter? It belongs to the fabulous Beta Band.

PrincessOats435: Oh, man, I am right there with you hating the cold. How much does it suck? We got about a foot and a half of snow this weekend and I'm totally miserable.

Brenda Osler: Thank god someone is with me on the fear of talking babies. Also? I wanted Ryan to come along, too. But I sort of had to have him stay back in Newport because...you'll see why in the next chapter. ;)

Rachel: I've been having some computer troubles but as soon as things start working again I'll check out your stories! I'm very excited! ;) My New Year's Eve sort of sucked because I was sick and then I made it worse by raiding the alcoholic remains of my parents' party...but it was okay. ;)And Summer? She'll be back. Probably the next chapter.

Dulcey: Yay! You're back and you updated! I hope all is well with your "real life issues"—I totally know the feeling and I hope everything's goingokay for you! ;)

All righty...here we go!

xoxo

Chapter 20: Assessment

"Do you think Ryan will be okay on his own?" Kirsten asked the next day, once she and Sandy were on the road.

"We're going to be gone for three days, honey. He's fine."

"I hope nothing happens."

"If it does, he can call one of the ninety-six emergency numbers you left for him." She disregarded his ridicule.

"Is your cell phone on?"

"He's seventeen, not seven." She sighed, clearly still unsettled. "We're talking about one of the most responsible kids on the planet. Well, the reformed most responsible."

"I know." She nodded and, determined to calm her nerves, changed the subject. "So, where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"Please tell me?"

"We're driving, sweetie. You'll be able to see for yourself soon enough." Defeated, she pulled a book from her purse as Sandy turned the Dodgers game on the radio.

"I could drive, if you wanted," she offered deviously a moment later, unable to keep her eyes on the book. "You could just tell me where to go..." He glanced over at her, grinning.

"This is killing you, isn't it?"

"You have no idea." He nodded at her book, gesturing for her to continue reading.

"Neither do you."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Wake up, hon, we're here." He put a hand on her shoulder through the open window and her eyes fluttered open. She glanced around groggily.

"Where are we?"

"We are at the Claremont," he announced proudly. She stared at him blankly. "Berkeley's very finest!" Sandy explained.

"Oh, Sandy!" She climbed out of the car and glanced around. "God, I haven't been back here in forever!"

"I figured we could just...hang out. Go to the beach, sightsee, whatever. Assuming you still love the sightsee. You were a little vague earlier," he said, shrugging and offering a teasing smile.

"We always say we're going to come back to visit and we never do!"

"Are you happy?" She smiled, taking his head in her hands and kissing him.

"I am definitely happy."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"This place really hasn't changed," Kirsten remarked as they walked around.

"Not a bit," Sandy agreed. "Seth's preschool..." He nodded at a nearby building.

"God, are we old?" she asked. "I still sort of feel like that was yesterday."

"He got put in the 'Quiet Corner' on his first day because he wouldn't stop walking during sharing time," Sandy remembered, smiling. "We're not old."

"If school is there, that means that if we take a left at the end of this block..." she trailed off, quickening her pace.

"Greenwich Drive," Sandy agreed.

"Nine-twenty-eight!" Kirsten said, stopping in front of their old house.

"It looks good," he commented, sliding an arm around her waist. "Someone got around to fixing it up."

"God, I loved this house." She studied it, looking slightly confused. "It's empty." He peered through the front window and saw that she was right, the inside of the house was completely stripped.

"Maybe someone else sold out and moved to a four-million-dollar mansion in Newport Beach!" Sandy chimed in. Kirsten smiled sarcastically.

"I sort of feel better than no one's living here," she said, cocking her head. "It's kind of nice to not have to see our old life completely taken over."

"I know what you mean." He kissed the top of her head. "You want to go in the backyard?" Kirsten glanced around nervously.

"Do you think it's okay?"

"We have history," he said, smiling. "I think we're allowed." He took her hand and they walked around to the back of the house. "My swing!" Sandy exclaimed upon spotting an old rope swing tied to a tree branch. "They kept my swing!"

"That took you an exceptionally long time to build," Kirsten mused, laughing, as it was just a plank of wood tied on with rope. "And as I recall...you rode on it more than Seth did."

"This is a very finely crafted piece of swingsettery," he protested. "Can I interest you in a ride, Mrs. Cohen?"

"I'll pass, thanks."

"Fine. You're pushing me then." Kirsten rolled her eyes but positioned herself behind the swing and gave him a firm shove. "You don't know what you're missing, honey!" he called as the swing took him for a weak ride.

"Somehow I think I'll survive," she replied dryly, smiling. He let the swing slow to a stop and pulled her close to him.

"Remember when we moved in here?" She smiled, nodding. "You were pregnant with Seth and there was a thunderstorm."

"Oh, that was a fun day," she said sardonically.

"We had a good time," he protested, and she smiled.

"We did."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kirsten looked around the hotel room and set down her Blackberry. Sandy had left over an hour ago, promising to return with dinner. She had already listened to all of her messages, returned three calls, and bid on a new development. Now she was restless. Sandy was insistent about the food he was going to go get but now she was slightly concerned. She picked up her phone to call him but at that moment she heard his key in the door and he came into the room.

"Thank god," she said, getting up to greet him. "I was worried."

"Sorry, sweetheart. I brought pizza." She looked at the box.

"I remember this place!"

"That's why I went there." He smiled, opening the box. Their smiles both faded into looks of disgust. "Oh, man."

"I can't believe we used to ear this," she laughed. He gingerly picked up a slide.

"Maybe we've just become pizza snobs. If that's gonna happen...Orange County is the place to do it to you." He took a bite and made a face. "Or maybe this really is the worst pizza ever. The world may never know."

"Thanks for trying," she said, kissing him. "I'm not really that hungry, anyways." He raised his eyebrows.

"No? Me either. Well...there is one thing that I'm very hungry for."

"What?" She eyed him suspiciously. He pulled her onto the bed.

"Love. I'm hungry for love." She laughed as he kissed her.

"Ew," she said, unable to hold back a familiar high school sentiment. She noticed a newspaper sticking out of his pocket and pulled it out. "What's this?"

"Oh!" He sat up and took it from her. "It's a present for you!"

"Oh...you...shouldn't have?"

"No, no...just...page nine," he said eagerly, handing it back to her. She curiously turned to page nine and spotted the section he had circled with pen. "Nine-twenty-eight Greenwich Drive. Spacious two-story home...two bedrooms, two baths, new hardwood, substantial back yard..." He looked at her expectantly.

"Sandy...what is this?"

"Four hundred! How great is that?"

"That's...nice. But why are you showing me this?" He took her hands.

"We loved that house, honey. And Ryan would like it here...you could get away from the ungodly Cooper-Nichol union and I could start my own practice. I talked to the realtor and she said that everything was fixed up by the previous owner. She's got someone else who might be interested but as soon as I mentioned that you were from the Newport Group she said that we had first dibs."

"I...I don't know what to say." She cocked her head as he watched her eagerly. "You talked to a realtor?"

"Well, yeah, I just...I saw the ad and I had to give it a shot." He studied her. "You're not happy."

"I'm just...a little overwhelmed, I guess. We can't move, Sandy." His face fell.

"Why not?"

"Because...we have a life," she said defensively. "We have history there. Pretty extensive history. We can't just pick up and move."

"But that's the beauty of it! We can! We'll fill out some transfer forms for Ryan and you can let your father down easy and I'll tell Partridge, Savage, and Kahn to go to hell!"

"It's not that simple."

"Why?"

"I like Newport," she said quietly. "I like our house and the neighborhood and...the Newpsies have their moments, and Jimmy, when he isn't making inappropriate sexual advances. And Summer? She's started to depend on me as a mother figure and it's a role I'm happy to take on." She sighed. "And my mom...and, you know, my dad. Hailey. I have some really great memories."

"We have memories here."

"I know. Of course we do. It's just..."

"They aren't as good?"

"Sandy. No."

"Then what? Explain this to me." She'd hurt his feelings, she could tell. She sighed.

"It's complicated."

"I just wanted to do something nice for you," he said quietly. "If I'd have known you were so...attached to Newport, I never would have brought this up in the first place."

"Seth," she whispered desperately. "It's about Seth. I don't want to leave in case...I don't know. Moving here would just feel so...shameful. Final."

"Oh." He took a ginger seat in a nearby armchair.

"Sandy, it's nice thought. All of your thoughts are nice thoughts. All you do, ever, are nice things for me." She gave him a small smile. "I'm incredibly lucky, honey, and you're...amazing. And you're absolutely right that moving back here would make me happy...under any other circumstances. But right now, with all that's happened...I need something in our life to stay the same. It sounds so stupid that I find stability in our house, but I do. And I'm sorry that I'm being childish with all of this but...I can't give up on him yet. I'm not ready to let go."

"I shouldn't have sprung this on you."

"Have you?" she asked oddly, and he glanced up, confused.

"Have I what?"

"Let him go," she said quietly, meeting his eyes. He looked taken aback.

"I don't want to talk about this now, Kirsten." She nodded, looking more weary than upset.

"Okay. Then I'm going to go to bed." He watched her rummage through her suitcase and he undressed while she was changing in the bathroom. When she emerges he was under the covers in his boxers, his back to her. He wanted nothing more than to face her, look at her, fall asleep holding her, but he couldn't. He was scared and she was frustrated. It was not a romantic combination. She crawled in next to him and gently touched his shoulder.

"Goodnight, Sandy."

"Love you," he murmured. She sighed.

"You too." She turned out the lights and he was allowed to be as awake as he wanted without her seeing. He knew she wouldn't bother him, wouldn't pick a fight. But somehow he felt like just seeing her would make him lose his mind. Seth had her facial structure, a certain delicacy underneath the overall masculinity he had inherited from his father. Sometimes Kirsten would tilt her head a certain way or laugh or blink and it would hit him like a ton of bricks that Seth was gone. In his present weakened state, he knew that he couldn't handle that. He was staring straight ahead, facing her now, and suddenly she clicked on a lamp and eliminated the dark that was surrounding him.

"Sorry, I have a headache. I just need some aspirin. I'll turn it off in a second." He couldn't help but watch her as she searched through her purse, and her current frustrated expression set him off. He quickly rolled over just in case the tears that were threatening to fall actually did. She got back into bed and turned off the light and he reveled too much in the return of the blackness. He took a deep breath and it escaped as a sob, one she distinctly heard.

"Sandy? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." His voice broke and she turned on the light again, sitting up.

"Sandy, what's the matter?"

"Nothing, honey. Something in my throat. I'm fine."

"Hey," she said, gently resting a hand on his back. He guided him over to her and studied him. "Honey, what's the matter?"

"Really, nothing. My throat just got dry for a second and—"

"Sandy," she said firmly. He hadn't shed any actual tears, but she could tell he was on the verge.

"I miss him," he admitted quietly. She ran a hand through his hair.

"I know. Me too."

"Maybe I did this because I'm anxious to get away from...everything. Anything. I don't even know. I just feel like he's everywhere I turn."

"I know the feeling." She sighed and leaned against him. "If this is what you need to do...then maybe we should do it. Buy the house. Move out here. Try to get on with our lives."

"I don't know if I even want to. I don't know what I want anymore."

"It's been six months," she pointed out. "That's half a year he could have called us."

"He knows better."

"I know," she whispered, looking away.

"He's gone, isn't he?"

"How did we let this happen?" She dodged his question with one of her own.

"He was having a really hard time. We tried, sweetie. We did everything we could."

"I wasn't around enough," she said thoughtfully.

"Honey, he didn't leave because of you."

"But I wasn't. All those years when he was growing up...it was like how my dad was with me. I was working and I wasn't around and I bought him things to compensate. That's probably where he got the notion that it's okay to leave your family."

"Hey," he was suddenly very stern "Don't you ever compare yourself to Caleb, okay? You're a wonderful mother, Kirsten. Seth adored you." Her eyes filled with tears and he wrapped his arms around her.

"We were always so much closer to him than other people were with their kids. I thought that was a good thing."

"It was. He didn't keep secrets from us. He only lied to us a few times. He kept us informed, we kept him informed. It was a good thing."

"I hate this," she confirmed. He absently stroked her hair.

"What are we supposed to do? We can't wait forever," he said. She hated the way that sounded; it made them seem so cruel.

"I don't know. When do you stop waiting?"

"I think...the sooner we let go, the easier this will be for us in the long run. I feel like I need some closure...but that's not likely. So I think we're just going to have to call the shots here and go with what feels right."

"The only way it's going to 'feel right' is if we find Seth alive," Kirsten said bitterly, moving away from him. He froze, taken aback. "Maybe you can, Sandy, but I have no idea how to 'call the shots' when it comes to forgetting my son."

"Who said anything about forgetting him? I was just suggesting that we start attempting to...rebuild. Get some semblance of our old life back."

"What the hell does that even mean? How can we rebuild a family if we're missing one of the members? I'm so sick of all of this psychological nonsense about reconstruction and...normalcy. Nothing is ever going to be normal again. Am I the only one who gets that?"

"I'm not the one who made us to go to a shrink," Sandy snapped.

"What, then? You came along just to humor me? How very chivalrous of you. What a stand-up guy you are, Sandy, catering to my outrageous demands. " He opened his mouth to speak but then weakly closed it. He shook his head slightly.

"I don't want to fight with you, Kirsten." She was surprised—but not unhappy—to hear this.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, ashamed. "Neither do I."

"It's too late to be doing this. And this isn't the place. We should wait until we get home. Talk to Ryan, too."

"Right. I...I didn't mean any of that, Sandy." He smirked.

"It's okay if you did." She blushed, fighting off a smile.

"Maybe I meant some of it. Just...with more eloquence. And...civility."

"I had a feeling." The air was still awkward between them but he smiled at her before he reached for the light. "Goodnight, Kirsten."

"Goodnight."


	21. Life Left Him There

Wow. Okay, so basically I could not suck more and it's been FOREVER and you guys were all so awesome with the reviews...but here, finally, is another chapter. It has been an embarassingly long time and I apologize because you were all such fantastic reviewers. But school was beyond insane and it still sort of is, but I've put some things behind me and lifted some weights off of my shoulders, so to speak, and here it is. Please review...unless you hate me for being a degenerate. Which I understand. ;)

xoxo

* * *

She was sitting out by the pool at their hotel, inattentively flipping through Vogue. Things were slightly uncomfortable with Sandy now; the talk the night before was a long time coming and as intense as they had both anticipated. This morning he had woken up early, kissed her on the cheek and whispered,

"I'm going out for a bit. Go back to sleep." He had then called around noon to let her know that he was visiting some of his old law professors and wouldn't be back until late. "Is that okay?" he had asked.

"Yeah," she'd replied wearily.

"Have some fun. Go get a massage or something."

"Sure." But she didn't want a massage. She wanted to busy herself, fill her head with numbers or solemn text messages about property settlement. Anything to temporarily erase the fact that she had just lost one child and was fairly certain that Seth was gone, too. When her phone rang she had never been more eager to listen to her father whine about contractors.

"Kirsten Cohen."

"Hey, Kirsten. It's Ryan." She decided that this was definitely better than Caleb.

"Hi, sweetie! Is everything all right?"

"Yeah, it's fine. How's Berkeley?"

"It's nice," she said, mostly lying.

"Cool. What are you guys doing?"

"Actually, Sandy's meeting with some old teachers."

"And you?"

"I'm just...hanging out."

"Working?" Ryan asked accusingly.

"No!"

"Really?"

"I was just about to make some phone calls," she admitted. "But just...boring stuff."

"You should do something fun, Kirsten. That's what vacations are for. Why aren't you hanging out with Sandy?"

"We're just...having some alone time," she said unconvincingly.

"Are you guys okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. Just...grown-up stuff," she smiled as she reverted to an excuse she used to use with Seth all the time when he was little.

"Kirsten..." Ryan sounded offended.

"I'm just kidding, sweetie. It's fine. We just needed a little break from each other." Ryan's sigh alerted her that he was still skeptical. "What are you up to?" She brightly changed the subject.

"Just homework mainly." He seemed to hesitate.

"Something wrong?"

"I actually...I need some advice."

"Oh! Of course."

"I just thought...because you said that if I ever needed advice about, uh, girls, that I should ask you. But if now is a bad time..."

"No! Now's not a bad time at all. Try me."

"Marissa's back."

"Oh. Wow."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Well...that's...a complex situation." She considered it. "Have you talked to her?"

"No. Summer told me. She got here this afternoon."

"So she knows that you know she's back?" Ryan smiled; Kirsten sounded like a teenager.

"I guess."

"Huh."

"Huh?"

"I'm just...evaluating. I mean, this is ultimately up to you, obviously, sweetie. If you feel uncomfortable, you don't have to go see her..."

"I feel like there's more to that sentence."

"...but my guess is that she's really love to see you."

"And Julie Cooper?" Kirsten sighed.

"The in-laws. You forget sometimes."

"What am I supposed to do about her? I mean...she thinks that I'm the reason Marissa did it in the first place. I don't think she'll be too happy to see me."

"Honey, Sophie Cohen has never once been happy to see me."

"You don't think it's going to be...weird?"

"No, I didn't say that. I can almost promise you that it's going to be weird. But when you love someone...you do it anyways. You do stuff that might be awkward or painful or awful because after awhile it's not going to matter that you both felt uncomfortable.. In the long run all that will matter is the fact that you were there for each other."

"Wow. You're good at this." She laughed.

"I've been married for twenty years. Sandy and I have had plenty of...unnerving conversations. They end up being worth it, I promise."

"So I should go see her."

"Do you love her?"

"Yeah, I do," Ryan said quietly.

"Then I'd go for it."

"Thanks, Kirsten."

"Of course." She smiled. "Good luck."

"And, hey..."

"Yes?"

"Sandy's gonna come around."

* * *

He did come around, sort of, but not until seven that evening, when he called her. 

"I've really enjoyed sitting around and waiting for you to call all day," she said, letting her irritation be known. She heard him sigh on the other end.

"I'm sorry, honey."

"This was supposed to be our weekend, Sandy. Something we did together."

"I promise you, it starts now."

"What do you mean?"

"Just you and me. Some romantic alone time. I'm pulling into the parking lot right now."

"Fine," she said dismally. "I'll be down in a minute." When she met him in the parking lot he got out to open her door for her.

"Hey, you." She managed a smile.

"Hey."

"Did you have anywhere in particular you wanted to go? Because I was thinking maybe we could head down to the beach. Open a bottle of wine, take a little walk?"

"Sure," she agreed quietly. "How was your day?"

"Good." He nodded vigorously. "I needed it. I needed to see the people who made me want to do what I do. A little reminder of twenty-five years ago. I miss my...passion, you know? Right now I've got experience and I've got money but my drive is missing. I just needed to remember why I became a lawyer."

"Did you?"

"Sort of," he said softly, looking away. "It's just...for me, back then, it was all about making something of myself. I was the punk from the Bronx and I wanted to show everyone that I could come out on top."

"And you have," Kirsten said kindly, touching his arm.

"That's the thing. I'm living in this dictionary definition of success and I'm the least happy that I've ever been." She was unsure of how to respond but he started talking again, letting her off the hook. "When I compare my life then to my life now...it's scary. I was driven and zealous and I had this amazing, crazy life defending these...erroneous kids. And now I'm a sellout who argues for wronged yacht owners. And I've lost a kid in the process."

"Oh, honey, you're not a sellout. I promise you." He smiled sadly at her and shook his head.

"It's not...I'm not looking for compliments. I'm just trying to explain. Maybe that's why that house means so much to me. Because it reminds me of when I used to like myself more." He pulled into the sandy parking lot near an expanse of beach and they got out of the car. He reached for her hand and they walked quietly onto the sand, along the shoreline.

"There's so much of yourself to like," Kirsten spoke up faintly, squeezing his hand. "I want you to be able to see that." She took a minute to collect her thoughts, then leaned slightly against him. "You aren't the same man I married. Not at all. But never once have I looked at any of those changes as flaws. You were a great man then and you still are now." She stopped him and took his other hand. "I don't care what you're doing or how much money you're making because your heart has always been in the same place." He wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned down to kiss her. She pulled back for a second and smiled at him. "I don't think I tell you this often enough...but I love you even more than the day I married you." He pulled her in for another kiss.

"Right back atcha."

* * *

"Hey, honey, you all set?" Sandy called to her the next day. She emerged from the bathroom wielding her blow-dryer and nodded. 

"Do you mind if I drive?"

"Go for it. You rule the road." She rolled her eyes, smiling as they walked out to the car together.

"I just...have somewhere I need to stop before we go home."

"Okay," he agreed, climbing into the passenger seat. He was quiet until she pulled up in front of a familiar place. "You changed your mind about that ride on my swing?"

"Nope." Sandy scanned over their old lawn.

"The for sale sign's gone," he remarked.

"So it is," Kirsten said, fighting back a smile. They both climbed out of the car and evaluated from the parkway.

"You think the new owners would mind if I took one last swing?"

"I think that they would insist that it's not your last," Kirsten said, and he turned slowly to her.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I'm positive that the new owners would be perfectly happy with you being there."

"Because...?"

"Because we're the new owners." He froze, then let out a laugh of disbelief.

"But...honey, you said..."

"I was being selfish," she said quietly. "You said that this place reminds you of when you were happier." She flashed him a small smile. "And I couldn't in good faith let my husband walk around without any passion, could I?" He laughed, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her up.

"You are the most wonderful woman in the whole entire world, you know that?" She smiled.

"I figured it could be sort of a vacation home. We can spend weekends, holidays, whenever. Keep living in Newport, keep Ryan and Harbor. But...have it here. For whenever we want it."

"Talk about a great compromise," he breathed, grinning. She dangled a key out in front of him.

"Take the grand tour all over again?" He took her hand and they went inside together. Sandy stopped in the front hallway and wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin in her shoulder.

"Hey Kirsten?" She looked up at him, smiling.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."


	22. Bad Day

Hey all! Happy belated Easter and way-early Passover! This year, for Lent, I gave up, um, updating this story. :cough: Anyways, apologies and many thanks for the spectacular reviews. Before I continue, I would like to give credit where credit is due—the last chapter title belongs to the Minus 5. Just for the record. And as for the rest of you...

PrincessOats435: Thanks for the lovely, slightly inebriated review. I was very impressed by your coherence. ;) And thanks for the understanding about school. This is definitely my hardest semester yet. And some lunatic in the math department got it in her head that I am a math genius (I am most definitely NOT) and is trying to get me to take some nerd program over the summer. So this semester might continue on for longer than expected. But I'm going to try to be more consistent with this story. Thanks for your patience. ;)

Rachel: I promise you, I'll be all over your story ASAP. Not...physically, of course, because...ew. I'm on spring break now so that leaves my nights after curfew open, which means that your reviews may very well be coming tonight at around midnight. I'm very excited to finally read. ;)

Everyone else—thanks a billion! You all kick ass. And now, without further ado, two new chapters! (Side note: "Bad Day" belongs to R.E.M, sort of, and "Going Going Gone" belongs to Old 97s.)

Chapter 22: Bad Day

She wasn't expecting the silent treatment when she got home, and when Ryan offered her a dismal wave she was caught off-guard, suddenly reminded of the sulky, brooding stranger he had been over a year ago.

"Hey, kid," Sandy said.

"Hey," Ryan acknowledged, standing up. "How was your trip?"

"It was awesome," Sandy said lightheartedly, putting a casual arm around Kirsten's shoulders and grinning.

"Well...good. Cool. I'm gonna go study." He left the room, leaving Kirsten feeling insulted and hurt in the kitchen. "I believe that's what they call the moody teenager," Sandy whispered, kissing the top of her head. "Don't take it personally, honey."

"How can I not?" She watched him slam the door of the pool house and frowned. "I'm going to go talk to him."

"Kirsten..." Sandy touched her arm.

"Ryan and I don't fight," she said firmly, and followed him outside. She knocked on the door.

"Busy," he called out, but she opened the door anyways, offering a sheepish smile.

"Concerned." He sighed.

"Don't be."

"What's going on?"

"Homework," he said, blushing because she had clearly seen him hide his Gameboy Advance underneath his pillow when she entered the room.

"How did it go with Marissa?" He rolled his eyes.

"Let's just say that not every story has a happy ending like yours and Sandy's. Maybe you aren't the best one to dispense advice."

"What happened?" She sat on the edge of his bed, worried.

"Marissa has adopted Julie's philosophy that I am the antichrist," Ryan replied, softening slightly, guilty because of Kirsten's compassion and the way that she was just letting him be a jackass and not calling him on it.

"Oh, no, sweetie. I'm so sorry."

"Yeah. Thanks. It's not your fault."

"Is that why you're acting like _I'm_ the antichrist?" she asked, biting back a smile. Ryan blushed more.

"I'm sorry. I just needed..."

"Someone to blame?" He nodded and she touched his shoulder. "Oh, I've definitely been there."

"Thanks," he said quietly.

"So...you want to tell me what happened?" He sighed, shrugging.

"I went over there, brought her some flowers. She said that she was making a bunch of changes in her life and she couldn't see me. Ever."

"Wow."

"Yeah. Really no room for misinterpretation...so I got to skip a step in the unconventional breakup grieving progression and go right to being a jerk." She smiled distractedly but went back to his first statement.

"I wouldn't give up so quickly. When I first met Sandy's mother and she...reached a decision about me, he was a little doubtful at first. He came around."

"Sandy broke up with you because of his mom?"

"No, he didn't break up with me. He just had a few second thoughts." Ryan raised an eyebrow and she smiled. "It's a long story."

"I've got time," he said, leaning back on his elbows and grinning. She laughed.

"You really want to hear?"

"Yeah. What happened?" She shrugged.

"What happened..." she mused."Well, Sandy had proposed weeks before we visited Sophie. And I just assumed that he had told his mother."

"He didn't?" Ryan asked incredulously. Kirsten rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

"She had absolutely no idea. And she saw my engagement ring before Sandy could tell her himself."

"Ouch," he muttered, and she smirked.

"My sentiments exactly. I almost killed Sandy." Her expression softened. "But he was scared. Just really, genuinely terrified of this woman who'd never really been a mother to him. He had basically raised himself and she was never around, but he was worried about how she would react because..."

"What your parents think of you will always matter, even if you don't want it to," Ryan completed softly. Kirsten, surprised, nodded.

"Even if they're never around, even if they aren't good people. It matters."

"It sucks," he said plainly.

"That it does," she sighed. She paused a moment, then recognized his silence as his discomfort with the subject and continued on with her story. "Right. Sophie Cohen. So we got there, and right off the bat she hated me because I was blonde and had the keys to a Porsche on my key ring."

"You drove a Porsche when you were in college?" Ryan asked, amazed. She blushed, looking away.

"Sort of. I mean, it was just for...it was...graduation...my dad...I don't know." She stammered, then finally summed everything up: "I didn't ask for it." This seemed to make sense to her, and while Ryan still didn't understand, he nodded as though he did. "So Sandy introduced me as his girlfriend, which I thought was a little odd, but I brushed it off. And suddenly Sophie noticed the ring and asked what it was, and I assumed that she was asking about the kind of diamond. So I was just rambling on about the cut and the size and I must have looked like such an idiot, because Sophie had absolutely no idea that we were engaged. So that was not exactly what you'd call...starting out on the right foot. And everything just went downhill from there because she found out that I was an art student from Newport fathered by one of the most successful independent real estate moguls in the West." Kirsten, feeling weakened by having shared this admission with Ryan, shrugged. "That night Sandy spent the night at home with his mother instead of at the hotel with me. There was a very awkward twenty-four hours when I thought that he was going to call it off."

"Wow," Ryan muttered.

"And there you have a glimmer of hope at the end of the long and tumultuous Cooper-Nichol tunnel, no?"

"My faith has been slightly restored." She smiled, standing up and patting his leg.

"You're a fantastic kid and any girl would be beyond lucky to have you, okay? You're going to find a relationship that clicks. You deserve it." He suddenly felt choked up, still taken aback by these displays of affection that the Cohens were so fond of. He tried to thank her, but, to his embarrassment, the words wouldn't come out.


	23. Going Going Gone

Chapter 23: Going Going Gone

When the doorbell rang one evening Ryan and Kirsten were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework and floor plans, respectively, while Sandy worked on a crossword at the island.

"I'll get it," Kirsten offered, standing up. Both men nodded distractedly and she was smiling knowingly when she opened the door. Summer was standing before her and she offered a meek wave.

"Hi, Kirsten."

"Hey, sweetie." She immediately saw that Summer was on the verge of tears and she reached a concerned arm out. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry to show up like this...I just...I didn't know where to go."

"What's going on?" Summer glanced around nervously.

"Is...anyone here? Like around?"

"You want to talk about this somewhere else?" Summer nodded desperately. "The pier, maybe?" Summer nodded again. "Go on out to the car. I'll be there in a second." Kirsten smiled and gestured out to the driveway. When Summer was safely outside, she returned to the kitchen. "Hey...Summer and I are going to go out for a bit, okay?"

"Where?" Sandy asked at the same time Ryan questioned "Why?"

"Girl stuff?" Kirsten explained desperately, shrugging.

"Gotcha. Have fun," Sandy said, suddenly disinterested. She rolled her eyes.

"I won't be long." Sandy stood up and kissed her.

"Call me if you need anything," he offered kindly, making up for his slight chauvinism. She smiled and went out to the car, where Summer was waiting in the passenger seat.

"Okay, we're all set," she said, climbing in next to her. They drove to the pier in silence and it wasn't until they had walked along for about ten minutes that Summer finally spoke.

"My mom's back," she said quietly. Kirsten turned, surprised.

"Your mom? From where?"

"She's been in Chicago since I was twelve."

"Have you seen her?" Summer shook her head slowly. "Not for five years?"

"No. She's been busy. She has a store there. She designs...bags and stuff. It's getting pretty popular." Even through her tears, Summer sounded a little excited by all of this, and it took Kirsten a minute to realize that when she heard in Summer's voice was pride.

"Well...that's nice." Summer nodded. "What made her come back?"

"She said she missed me. She came for a visit...I guess she finally got a break. She's been here all weekend and we've been hanging out."

"It must be nice to spend time with her again."

"Yeah," Summer said, letting out a quiet sob.

"Sweetheart, what's the matter?" Kirsten asked, guiding her to a bench.

"I'm leaving," Summer said quietly, her shoulders shaking. "She asked me to come live with her in Chicago and I said yes." Kirsten felt surprisingly hurt by this news, as though Ryan had announced that he was leaving or something.

"Oh." She considered things in her head, then turned to Summer. "Why are you so upset, honey?"

"I don't know," Summer shook her head, carefully wiping away tears from her eyes. "I should be so excited to finally get my mom back and move away from the Stepmonster and everything I don't like about this place but...I can't." Kirsten predicted that Summer wasn't finished speaking yet and, sure enough, she began again a minute later. "Marissa is a totally different person and my boyfriend dumped me because he said I wasn't over Cohen and my dad is mad because there's no way I'm ever going to get into Stanford and I...I don't know. There's nothing left here."

"Oh, sweetie, sure there is," Kirsten said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "There are a lot of people who care about you." Summer seemed unconvinced and Kirsten continued, "But if you feel like you can't handle it here...if you feel like the best thing for you is to get out? Go with your instincts." Summer started crying again and Kirsten pulled her into a hug. "That's not to say that we want you to go. The Cohen household will never be quite complete without you," she smiled sadly. "I'm sorry to say that you've become an honorary Cohen and there's no getting out of that." They both laughed.

"I think I should go," Summer said quietly, decisively, as though she needed to convince herself.

"When?"

"She wants me to come the week after next," Summer explained. Kirsten felt her own eyes filling with tears and briskly cleared her throat.

"Well, let me know if there's anything I can do. And I'd love to throw you a party—nothing big, just whoever you'd like to invite."

"Thanks, Kirsten."

"Of course." They both stood up and Summer reached out awkwardly to hug her. "This place isn't going to be the same without you."

"Kirsten..." Summer took a deep breath. "I just want to say thanks. In the past couple of months...you've been more of a mother to me than anyone ever has. And if there's ever anything I can do—" Kirsten smiled, shaking her head to cut Summer off.

"You've already done more than enough. In fact, I'm the one that owes you." Summer, not used to sentimental exchanges, smiled.

"You want to call it even?" Kirsten laughed, nodding.

"Yeah."


	24. With Or Without You

Okay. I'm not entirely sure if anyone will still remember me or this story because it has been so effing long since I last updated...but here's a pretty long-ish chapter for you. If you don't hate me and want to leave me a review I very well may have an extremely happy next chapter already written and waiting to be read...not that I'm attempting bribery after I disappeared for several months. I hope you'll like how this is going...thanks so much for the reviews you left for the last installment, like, fifteen years ago. Also? Chapter title belongs to U2. It may seem like I am a huge fan, but really I sort of detest Bono. I just have a weakness for their older stuff—and selective newer stuff. Whatever. Not important. I hope you enjoy! ;)

xoxo

Chapter 24: With Or Without You

Kirsten wasn't anywhere near in the mood for one of her famous Newport blowouts, but she had promised Summer a going-away party and she was going to follow through. The caterers were almost finished setting up and people were set to arrive within the next few minutes. She found Ryan in the pool house, tugging exasperatedly at his tie.

"You look nice," she commented, then wordlessly removed the tie from his hands and tied it with expert precision. It occurred to him that she had probably done this a lot for both Seth and Sandy, and he smiled at how casual she was with him, taking on his tie as if he were her own son.

"Thanks. So do you." She tugged at the hem of her Chanel, looking critically at herself in the mirror.

"You think? Thank you." She ran a hand through her hair, still looking dissatisfied with her reflection, and he wondered how she—literally the most perfect woman on the planet—could be so concerned about the way she looked.

"Are you okay?" he asked her uncertainly, sitting on the edge of his bed. She smiled.

"Yeah. Fine. Are you all ready?"

"I think so."

"I haven't even asked you how you're feeling about this," Kirsten said, cocking her head.

"I'm fine with it."

"I know you've gotten closer with Summer in the past few months." Ryan forced an easy, noncommittal smile.

"Sort of." She recognized his discomfort and nodded quickly.

"Okay. Just checking."

"I'm totally fine. But thanks, Kirsten."

"Anytime." She reached for the doorknob. "Shall we?"

* * *

Jimmy Cooper approached her tentatively, jutting his arm out in a nervous wave.

"Hey. Thanks for inviting me."

"Of course," she said, forcing a smile.

"So, Kirsten, look...I'm sorry about—what happened. It was so beyond stupid and I just—" She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Jimmy." He stopped sheepishly, looking up at her. She smiled again, this time for real. "I'm glad Marissa's okay." There was a minute of quiet, mutual realization that all was forgotten between them.

"Thanks," Jimmy said, nodding. "So are we."

"How's she doing lately? We don't see much of her anymore," Kirsten said pointedly.

"She's here," Jimmy said, craning his neck to look around the yard. Finally he spotted her sitting by herself at a table and gestured over. "Right there."

"Oh." Kirsten nodded and offered a noncommittal wave in Marissa's direction, but the girl was in somewhat of a trance and didn't seem to see her.

"It's been hard for her," Jimmy said. "The people at the institution were all about...you know, starting over, setting things right. And she sort of took that to mean...starting new, completely."

"That has to be confusing for anyone. But...at her age, especially..." Kirsten sympathized.

"She really loves Ryan," Jimmy said quietly. "She's just having a hard time admitting that to herself because she thinks that she isn't supposed to."

"Well, he's a phenomenal listener if she ever decides she's ready to talk," Kirsten said, smiling slightly.

"Yeah, I had a feeling." He jammed his hands in his pockets and studied her awkwardly. "So...Seth?"

"Nothing," Kirsten said softly.

"Oh, Kirsten, I'm—"

"Yeah, I know," she cut him off, smiling sadly. He reached over and put a hand gently on her shoulder, a gesture that, thankfully, felt completely platonic.

"I may not be a phenomenal listener, but if you ever decide you're ready to talk..." he trailed off, smiling. "I'm always around."

"Thanks, Jimmy." She cocked her head and glanced over to see her husband conversing wearily with one of their neighbors. "You should stop by sometime soon. I know Sandy misses having a golf buddy."

"You think he's okay with me?" Jimmy asked doubtfully.

"We're talking about one of the most forgiving people on the planet." Jimmy nodded his agreement.

"And you? You would be okay with me coming over?" She smiled and punched his arm playfully.

"With my oldest friend? Yeah, I think I'd be okay with that."

* * *

An hour later she was sitting on the edge of her bed, envying Ryan's status as the surly teenage boy who was allowed to sit sullenly at the bar drinking Mountain Dews.

"I thought I might find you hiding out." She looked up and smiled at Sandy standing in the doorway of their bedroom.

"Smart man," she said quietly.

"I can't imagine why you'd be hiding out. I mean...we've got several Coopers, a few Nichols, a Taryn, a Taryn's husband in a Hawaiian shirt, and a very intoxicated step-Roberts. This is a hell of a party, Kiki. You've outdone yourself this time." She waved a throw pillow at him.

"Thank you for adding insult to injury, Sanford." He sat down gently next to her.

"You okay?" She shrugged.

"I will be, I guess."

"Well, that's a reassuring answer."

"This is just harder than I thought it would be." He put his arm around her and she leaned against him, loving that he knew her so well.

"Hey, Kirsten? I—oh—my god, sorry," Summer recoiled in the doorway, blushing. "Sorry."

"We've got to stop meeting like this," Sandy said, grinning as he disentangled himself from his wife. "You holding up, kiddo?" Summer nodded slightly, smiling at him. "I'll let you two talk." Kirsten, cheeks reddening with embarrassment, turned to Summer.

"What's up?"

"Um...my mom. She's here."

"Oh. Your mom." Kirsten felt oddly threatened.

"She wants to meet you."

"Me?" She swallowed hard and forced a smile because Summer looked anxious. "Great."

* * *

Summer's mother was pretty, standing out in all black amongst a sea of spring-line-Cavalli-clad Newpsies. She quickly put out a cigarette in the grass when she saw Kirsten coming.

"Hi, I'm Kirsten Cohen," she offered in her overly friendly awkward-meeting voice.

"Alicia. I've heard a lot about you." Summer's mother shook her hand and made no effort to conceal the fact that she was looking Kirsten up and down, evaluating her.

"Lies, I'm sure," Kirsten said, smiling.

"No, everything she said was pretty consistent. Very sweet, gorgeous, successful, killer wardrobe, perfect husband, great job. Did I leave anything out, Sum?" Summer blushed and Kirsten laughed, intensely flattered. "She's been raving about you," Alicia said, sounding half bitter and half kind.

"Well, I could go on about Summer forever. You're very lucky," Kirsten said honestly. Alicia nodded.

"I am. But we should get going." Summer looked as surprised as Kirsten felt.

"Get going...like, leave?" Kirsten asked.

"Our flight leaves at nine-thirty."

"We're leaving tonight?" Summer asked, dumbstruck.

"Yeah, sweetie, I told you I have some big clients coming in tomorrow afternoon."

"I don't think so," Summer said quietly.

"No? I'm pretty sure I did."

"Okay," Summer muttered. "Um...I guess I...I should probably go say goodbye to...um..." She looked up at Kirsten almost desperately and Kirsten put a hand on her shoulder.

"Ryan's over by the bar."

"Thanks," Summer said gratefully.

"Sum, I need to go pack my stuff," Alicia said impatiently.

"I just need a couple of minutes."

"It's a twenty minute drive to my hotel and I'm already—"

"Alicia," Kirsten said brightly. "Why don't you go back and pack your stuff and I'll drive Summer over after she finishes with Ryan? I'll make sure to leave you plenty of time to get to the airport." Alicia glanced between a hopeful Summer and a smiling Kirsten.

"Fine. Sure. Thanks. I'll see you at the hotel, Summer. Bring whatever you need for the week." She looked up at Kirsten again. "We're having the rest of her stuff shipped." Kirsten nodded, feeling surprisingly saddened by this. It made things so final. "It was nice meeting you," Alicia said. "Thanks for keeping an eye on Summer." Suddenly Sandy was behind Kirsten with am arm around her waist; she reveled, once again, in his acute understanding of her.

"It was our pleasure," she said softly, and Sandy nodded his agreement.

"You know what, Alicia? Let me walk you to your car," Sandy suddenly offered, and Alicia nodded.

"Sure. Thanks." Kirsten watched, confused, as they walked off together.

"Thanks, Kirsten," Summer said quietly when they were alone.

"Of course." Kirsten touched her arm gently. "Now go get Ryan and Marissa and say a proper goodbye, huh?"

"Yeah," Summer smiled. "I think it's probably about time that they both admitted that they're, like, obsessed with each other. I can't leave them both to brood alone. I might as well set them up so they can do it together, right?" Kirsten watched her retrieve Marissa and pull her over towards Ryan, and all of a sudden there was a hand on her shoulder and she turned around to find her father.

"Hey, Kiki."

"Hey, Dad," she said warily.

"Nice party."

"Yeah? Thanks." He kissed the top of her head.

"I think that Seth would really like what you're doing for his girlfriend." For whatever reason this statement brought tears to her eyes and she cleared her throat.

"You think so?"

"I know so." He lowered his voice a bit and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're a great mother, Kiki, and a magnificent person." She was so choked up by this uncharacteristic display of affection that she just leaned slightly against him. He smirked, ruffling her hair. "Your choice of friends, however, is questionable. Who _is_ that garish man in the horrendous Hawaiian shirt?" And that served as a sufficient excuse for her to laugh instead of cry.

* * *

The car was exceptionally silent for the first few moments of their ride to Alicia's hotel, nothing but the sound of light rain hitting against the windows. Finally Summer mumbled,

"I feel bad just leaving like this." Kirsten turned slightly.

"Why?"

"It's like I just get to go start over or something. But he was your son. You should be the one who gets to escape."

"I've got Sandy and Ryan," she said, smiling sadly. "You've got your entire life ahead of you."

"But you and Sandy...you've been through hell and you lost completely everything and if anyone should be running off to Chicago it should be you guys." Kirsten smirked at the thought and shook her head.

"Seth is—was...my favorite person in the entire world. And like it or not, I'm not allowed to start over. I couldn't even if I wanted to. But you have to. You have to go out and be as happy as you possibly can and try to find what I found with Sandy and Seth and Ryan. It's...absolutely the best feeling you will ever have. Because even though Seth left? I'm always going to love him more than I can even tell you. I want you to experience that, Summer. You deserve it. I don't want you to stay here and miss him if it means that you're going to be missing out on great things." Summer nodded slowly.

"Okay," she whispered. Kirsten was pulling into the lot of the hotel and she turned to Summer.

"You better come back and visit. I finally got that daughter that I always wanted and if she just picks up and moves to Chicago and never comes back to see me it kind of defeats the purpose of the whole relationship." She laughed, again, because it was more pleasant than crying, but then Summer's tears spilled over and she lost it. "I promised myself I wouldn't cry," she offered, laughing again and then pulling Summer into a hug.

"Me too," Summer mumbled into her shoulder.

"Keep in touch, huh? Tell me what's going on with your life?"

"Yeah, you too." Summer leaned back and looked at her. "Thanks, Kirsten. For everything." Kirsten waved a dismissive hand.

"Oh, honey, you don't have to—" But Summer was shaking her head solemnly.

"Seriously. I don't know what I would have done if you guys hadn't...taken me in all of those times and just..." Kirsten smiled and nodded slightly.

"It was our pleasure." She cocked her head and laughed awkwardly. "You're going places, sweetie. You'll take Chicago by storm." Summer smiled, seemingly unable to speak again, and jumped out of the car. It had started to pour now and she jogged across the parking lot, shielding her head from the rain. Kirsten was watching from the driver's seat, feeling like she had when Ryan left. Summer stopped at the door to the lobby and turned to wave to her and she felt like throwing up. She flicked her wrist in Summer's direction and then floored it, getting away from the hotel as fast as she could because she thought it might make things hurt less.


	25. Ballad Of A Comeback Kid

Oh, my god, I am so tempted to start singing that Eminem song...the, you know, "if you want Shady, this is what I'll give ya—a little bit of ME mixed with some hard liquor" and the, uh, "guess who's back? Back again? Shady's back, tell a friend." Because clearly I am such a gangsta. I suppose it might be more appropriate for me, the little suburbanite, to bust out with "Everybody...rock your body...everybody, rock your body right—Backstreet's back, all right!" Because those are the only two songs I can think of that are about people coming back. Though, really, neither one is appropriate because guess who is ACTUALLY back? Seth! And he's totally not dead, though it has been fun to mess with your heads all along. ;)

Also? Sorry I just busted out, like, type-singing. That's really not an appreciated action. But okay. Thanks for the reviews; you guys are so nice. Rachel, you're always right on-the-ball with your reading and reviewing and I absolutely love it. I thought I owed it to you to post ASAP. ;) And this chapter title belongs to the New Pornographers. Thanks, guys.

And I've gotta say this in my own defense--the Backstreet Boys? I was never into them. Honestly. The only shameful boy-band album I ever had was N'Sync Christmas, I swear to god. I stayed off the Hanson bandwagon, and I never thought that Nick Carter was hot, and I still stand by my theory that Justin Timberlake is actually a woman. This may bring you to question how I know the words, and to be perfectly honest, I'm not entirely sure, which I realize is a shotty answer. But I just like to clear my name. Thank you for your time. :bows:

And, as usual...please read and review! ;)

xoxo

Chapter 25: Ballad Of A Comeback Kid

When he called, she thought it was a practical joke at first. Some bored water polo player who'd had a few beers. The voice at the other end of the line sounded too old—too weary to be her little boy.

"Look, I don't know where you even got this number, but this really isn't funny."

"Mom, I swear to god. It's me. Seriously, you're so paranoid. And a little self-absorbed. You really think that someone would go out of their way to, like, punk you? You been watching a little too much MTV lately or what?" Her breath caught in her throat. It was him, all right. "We're both well aware that I'm not popular enough to evoke classmates to make prank phone calls in my honor."

"Seth?" she finally managed to croak out. He softened on the other line, his voice quiet and kind.

"Yeah, Mom." It was then that she believed him, then that she burst into tears.

"It's really you?"

"Seth Cohen. In the flesh. Well...I mean, I guess in the voice, rather. I mean, technically, I am in the flesh, but the voice is what...I think you get the point."

"Oh, my god, Seth. Are you all right? Where are you? Where the hell have you been? How can you be making fun of me after you've been going for almost a _year_ without so much as a phone call or—"

"Mom, I'm sorry." He sounded young again, and suddenly she pictured the little boy who she used to read bedtime stories to every night, the one who would clutch her hand when they went hunting for seashells. She laughed because she was so relieved, and there were tears streaming down her cheeks for the same reason.

"Oh, it's _so_ not okay...but, god, you're...alive. You have no idea how much I've missed that voice, Seth."

"I'll remember that the next time you tell me I talk too much."

"Where are you?"

"Pittsburgh."

"Jesus. Why?"

"I'm staying with Anna."

"With Anna like..._with_ Anna?"

"No. God, Mom, get your head out of the gutter."

"You're grounded until you're eighty."

"Assuming I come home." She froze. This possibility hadn't occurred to her. He would call, and the call would be immediately followed by a heartwarming reunion and months of intense but cheerful grounding.

"You're coming home," she said sternly.

"Mom, I just need you to listen and—"

"I'll listen to anything you want, but you're coming home."

"I don't know if I can."

"I do. You can." He sighed and she sat, trying to picture him at the other end of the line. "I thought you were dead," she said quietly. "We all did."

"I'm not." He managed to say this with compassion and she smiled, still unable to believe that she was sitting at her desk having this conversation.

"Oh, sweetie, we have so much to talk about," she mused. "But maybe we should just book you a flight for tonight and get you home first."

"Mom, that's not why I called. I don't want to come back."

"There is an area where you don't have a choice, I'm afraid."

"I do if I refuse."

"Seth, this has been the worst year of my life. Do you understand that? You tore up our lives completely. Me, your father, Ryan, Summer, your grandparents. You didn't just leave this town, Seth, you left people who love you and care about you. You put me and your father though months and months of agonizing _hell, _do you get that?"

"I'm sorry. It wasn't about you."

"If it's about you, Seth, and you leaving this family, then yes, it is about me. How could you not call? How could you spend a year living clear across the country and never pick up the phone just _once_ to tell me that you were okay? You would be hard-pressed to find something that is _more_ about me, Seth, okay?"

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"You're coming home."

"Look, Mom, I—"

"How are you paying for anything?"

"My hos are taking care of it. Doing some good, honest work, handing over the profits. I run a good biz, mother."

"Not funny." Seth sighed.

"I just...have...cash."

"Seth."

"Grandpa gave me a credit card. For emergencies."

"What? When? Jesus. I'm going to kill him."

"No, Mom, it's not his...it's my fault."

"Oh, I'm killing you too. Don't worry about that."

"Look...Anna's aunt is really awesome, and her friends are all really cool. I've been studying, too. I do Anna's homework with her. So it's not like I'm even that behind. And I have a job at a skateboarding store. How cool is that?" He didn't expect her to answer, and she didn't. "I really like it here, Mom," he said earnestly.

"Well, I really _like_ having my sixteen-year-old son and the most important person in my life living at home with me where he legally belongs, Seth."

"How's Dad?" Seth asked, attempting to change the subject. Kirsten, not wanting to upset Seth and have him hang up on her, gave in temporarily.

"He's okay. He and Ryan are spending the week in New York."

"Ryan came back?"

"Just a few months after he left. Teresa miscarried." Kirsten realized she probably had to tell Seth about her own experience but decided it could wait.

"Wow. So he's...he's living there."

"He is."

"And he and Dad are in New York? Why?"

"Your father wanted to show him around. Harbor has a five-day weekend."

"Why didn't you go?" She could hear the jealousy in Seth's voice. The truth was that she hadn't gone with because she'd wanted to give Ryan and Sandy some father-son type bonding time, but she lied so as not to hurt Seth.

"You know me. Work."

"Ah." Seth cleared his throat. "Well...that's cool, I guess. I mean...cool. So not much has changed, I guess? I mean...nobody died or moved or...went to jail or came out of the closet or anything? That sort of sucks."

"You were hoping that someone would die while you were gone?"

"I guess not." He sounded mildly disappointed and she laughed.

"Plenty changed, sweetheart. Nothing as extreme as you're talking about, but come home and I guarantee there's a lot you won't recognize."

"Oh my god...did Grandpa have a sex change?"

"I didn't necessarily mean physically," she corrected herself, smiling.

"Oh. So just like, new tires on the cars? Replaced some of the furniture?"

"Among other things."

"And Summer? She's doing okay? You know, I mean, is she..."

"Summer's fine," Kirsten said, tensing. "She's actually...she left."

"What do you mean? For vacation?"

"No, I mean...she moved. To Chicago. To live with her mother."

"What? But...Summer hates her mom. She hasn't talked to her since sixth grade!" His voice was high and wounded and her heart melted hearing him so upset.

"Her mom came back and...they reconciled." He was silent for such a long time that she thought that they had lost the connection. "Seth?"

"Yeah, I'm here," he said quietly. He cleared his throat. "So, listen, Mom. I've grown up a lot in the past few months. I'm making this decision as an adult."

"You're more that welcome to make that decision when you become a legally recognized adult. Until then, you're coming home and finishing high school." Kirsten's secretary stuck her head in the door.

"Mrs. Cohen? Mr. Savage is here about the Palo Alto land trust?"

"Thanks," Kirsten sighed. "Seth, I've got a meeting that I really can't miss. Please...call your dad and leave a number with me so I can call you back?"

"I'll just call you," Seth said dejectedly.

"Okay. It's so great to hear you, honey."

"Yeah, you too."

"I love you."

"Love you too." She heard the other line click and she sighed, setting down the receiver in the cradle. She wanted to cry and call Sandy and have a SWAT team go retrieve Seth, but instead she stood up, smoothed her skirt, and entered the conference room.

"Mr. Savage, I'm sorry to keep you waiting."


	26. Don't Let It Get You Down

I'm back! Thank you guys all so much for your reviews--you're completely awesome and you make this so much fun. ;) Princess Oats, I understand your failure to accept my error in musical judgement. At least I've reformed, right? To a degree? And Rachel, if your "HINT HINT"-ing was referring to me reading one of your stories? I'd be delighted! Let me know what I can do. ;) This chapter title belongs to Spoon and that's really all I have to say. Leave me some reviews and the next chapter could be up pretty quickly. ;)

xoxo

Chapter 26: Don't Let It Get You Down

As soon as she finished her meeting she locked herself in her office and dialed Sandy's cell number.

"Honey! He's back!" She smiled at his enthusiastic greeting.

"He's alive," she corrected dryly.

"So he fed you all that shtick about staying in Pittsburgh, too?"

"What are we going to do, Sandy? Just allow him to live in...Pennsylvanian anonymity until he gets sick of it, which will be never?"

"No, babe, I called Caleb the second I hung up with Seth. He regularly charges comics to his 'emergency' credit card at a place called Burt's One-Stop. Ryan used his handy computer skills and looked it up for me. Four-twenty-six 17th Street. Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. My guess is that he's living right around there with Anna's aunt, one Rebecca Stern."

"What? My dad knew about this all along and he didn't even—"

"No, honey. He's Caleb Nichol. You think he ever even looks at his credit card bills?"

"So he's just been paying Seth's way this whole time without even knowing it?"

"Basically. But could we pause a minute to acknowledge the outstanding detective skills I have just displayed?" She couldn't help but smile.

"Yes, sweetheart, I'm very turned on by the Magnum P.I. side of you."

"You know, I always through myself to be more of a Columbo type of guy."

"So be it," she said, grinning. "But Sandy...do you realize what this means? I can call him! God, he was so cocky about his whereabouts and now I know exactly where he is. Sort of. But...god, I can call him!"

"I have a better idea."

"Please don't tell me you want to let him stay there."

"Hell, no. I think you should go pick him up. Sneak attack." She laughed.

"You mean show up? Kidnap him?"

"Hey, he's our kid to nap as we please. Am I right?"

"Just drag him home?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures. We'll show him. Kid thinks he can outsmart the dynamic duo?"

"We're the...dynamic duo?" she asked doubtfully.

"Oh, yes, darling. Unbeatable combination."

* * *

Four hours later, she was on a plane. She made an unsuccessful attempt to read—too distracted thinking about Seth—then took a sleeping pill and allowed herself to pass out for the remainder of the flight. She woke up for the landing and her heart was pounding. Not because of the plane—she's flown plenty of times. It was getting off that scared her now. Once she got off she was essentially just a cab ride away from the bitter young man who used to be her fantastic little boy. She left the airport a few minutes later, took a breath of fresh air, and ducked into a nearby phone booth. And there it was, the phone book, the listing of Seth's current address. She flipped to the S section and ran her finger down the page. Steckman, John. Steele, Patrick. Steffen, Julia. Stern, Rebecca. Fourteen-sixty-one Lincoln St. And then she was in a cab, reciting that very address to a man who paused briefly to listen to her, then resumed yelling in Polish into a headset. He finally hung up and smiled sheepishly back at her. 

"Teenagers, huh?" She smiled tightly.

"I've been there." Her knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the backseat. She was starting to regret this.

"My daughter, she's fifteen. She wants to go to the mall, meet a boy. But I tell her she's too young to date and she tells me that she's an adult! An adult! Fifteen! Can you believe that?" She laughed weakly.

"Sounds like you've got a drama queen on your hands," she said, feeling phony and spurious. What she really wanted to say was 'Yes, but did your daughter run away clear across the country and conveniently forget to call?'

"Oh, yes. Here we are, ma'am." She absently over-tipped him and climbed out, studying the condominium before her. This was the place Seth preferred to call home over the house he'd been raised in. She took a deep breath. This was her child. She was the parent. The one in change. She maintained her false bravery as she went into the lobby. She approached the intercom, examined the column of buttons next to it. Stern. She reached forward and pressed it down. There was a ring, then some static, then,

"Hello?" She felt slightly relieved to hear a voice other than Seth's.

"Um, yes. Hello. This is Kirsten Cohen. I'm here to see Seth?"

"Mrs. Cohen! It's Anna! Come on up!" There was a click, then a buzz, and Kirsten found the lobby door unlocked. They were on the third floor and she decided to take the stairs, allow herself some time to collect her thoughts. When she reached the top she found Anna leaning outside one of the doors, grinning. "Hey, Mrs. Cohen!"

"Hi, Anna." Kirsten smiled uncomfortably and approached the door. "Is he...?"

"Actually, no. He's working. But he should be home in like ten minutes. Come in!" Kirsten entered the condo, a large, relatively clean place with blue furniture. "Does he know you're coming?" Anna asked, seeming confused.

"No. He doesn't...he doesn't even know that I know he lives here."

"Oh, god. What? He said that he's been talking to you since he came here!" Kirsten looked at her incredulously.

"He did?"

"Yes! He hasn't called you?"

"Ah. No."

"Oh, my god, Mrs. Cohen. I'm so sorry. I told him...the first day he got here, I told him to call you. And I thought he did! I can't believe he would do that."

"Well, don't worry. He's being sufficiently punished, believe me. Thanks for trying to get him to call." Kirsten offered her a reassuring smile even though inside she felt insane, a mixture of fury and anxiety and flat-out fear. "How's he doing?" Kirsten asked quietly, and Anna smiled.

"He's doing well. He's happy."

"That's good," Kirsten said, and realized that she did feel relieved that he was happy. That at least someone could be. "Thanks a lot for taking him in. Your aunt, too."

"Oh, she's in Tokyo. She's never home." She saw the look on Kirsten's face and was quick to explain herself. "We're totally responsible, Mrs. Cohen. I mean, I know Seth isn't in school but other than that, we're totally great. We don't even go out that much."

"And you two are...a couple?"

"A couple of friends," Anna assured her, smiling. "Nothing more. We haven't been since before I left Newport." Kirsten nodded, feeling relieved. Suddenly she heard a key in the lock and Anna jumped up. "Oh, wow. Okay. That's him. That's...my cue, I think. I'll be..." She waved her hands towards a hallway. "I'll be in my room." She sprinted away just as the front door opened. Kirsten stood up slowly, her legs shaking involuntarily. He hadn't noticed her yet; his back was to her, setting his bag down on the floor.

"Seth." Her voice wasn't especially loud but he heard her and turned around slowly.

"Mom?" She was crossing her fingers that he wouldn't bolt out the same door he had just come in through and she breathed a sigh of relief when he burst out laughing and ran over to throw his arms around her. And there they were, embracing in the middle of this big blue living room. He had actually picked her up, her little boy was holding her up in his arms and she was crying again. "You found me," he said quietly, grinning, once he'd set her down.

"I found you," she managed to confirm, nodding. "Oh, god, sweetie, I missed you so much." She took his face in her hands. "You look so _old_."

"How did you find me?" She smirked.

"Ask your father. He deserves the credit."

"Is he here?"

"Nope. Just me."

"Solo mission?"

"So it seems." She studied him for a minute. "Oh, honey, please come home."

"Wow. You make it kind of hard to say no."

"Does that mean you're saying yes?"

"Hard, but not impossible," Seth said, sitting down on the couch.

"Seth, please don't do this to me."

"It's not about you. I have a new life."

"You have an old life, too."

"It sounds like you guys are getting along fine without me. Long weekends in New York? That's what I call grieving."

"Is it?" she asked, furious. "Is that what you call grieving? Because what I call grieving is your father and I not speaking for three months. Ryan, worried out of his mind about his _brother_. Me, stressing myself into miscarrying. And Summer? I think that we can file her moving away to Chicago under 'grieving', don't you?" She hadn't meant to bring up the baby, or to rub the Summer thing into his face. Seth looked horrified.

"You were pregnant?"

"I...that's not the point. I mean, yes, but..." She recognized the look on his face as him on the verge of tears and suddenly he hardened, standing up.

"It's not my fault. You can't try and guilt me into coming back." It was like he had stabbed her. She went for the door, feeling like she was going to vomit.

"What happened to you, Seth?"

"People change," he said stonily, and closed the door behind her.


	27. Alone Together

Hey there! You guys are the most spectacular reviewers EVER and I adore each and every one of you.

Rachel: I sent you an e-mail about your story because, for whatever reason, when I tried to post my e-mail address on here the site kept deleting it. Summer will be back relatively soon, no worries. And thank you, your death threats are great incentive for me to post more frequently. ;)

Princess Oats: Thanks for the drug theory; I'll keep it in mind. ;) As for them allowing drugged persons onto planes? I've never tried to smuggle anyone, but I went on vacation with some of my friends last year and there was definitely some intoxication happening there and none of them were removed from the flight. So who knows? I also offer my condolences for your Mormon stalker. I actually have a Mormon stalker, too, except mine--in an odd plot twist--is a girl! (This detail makes me very uncomfortable.)She wears long shorts and isn't allowed to watch movies and there was a 2-year period in which she mysteriously lacked ears and wore a conspicuous bandana but no one was allowed to ask about it. And she invited me to a party and I threw out my invitation and she came up to me and was like, "So, are you coming to my party?" and I was like, "Party? What party? I haven't heard about any..." (The "..." represents me running away faster than the speed of light.) I'm so mean and will probably soon be jailed for it, but whatever. Glad you like "Magnolia", and glad I made up for the N'Sync debacle. Thanks for another long review! ;)

And everyone else--you guys are phenomenal. Again, I have so much fun with this because of you all. Please continue to let me know your thoughts! ;) This chapter title belongs to the Strokes (I know, yet again...I was just going through "Shuffle" on my iPod and I picked the first song that caught my eye. And it happened to be by those uncleanly, drunken boys. Though I do still love them even though their second album sounded almost exactly like their first. They often serve as my "Sunday Joy Ride" music.) Anyways...please review! I hope you like this one. Some happy stuff happens. Now go forth and read! ;)

Chapter 27: Alone Together

She called Sandy crying and felt quite juvenile when she replied to his hello with a sob.

"Kirsten? Sweetheart, what's wrong?" He sounded worried, probably thought that her plane had gone down or that Seth wasn't where they thought he would be. "Honey, where are you?"

"I'm in Pittsburgh," she said, sniffling.

"Are you all right? Is Seth?"

"He hates me, Sandy."

"What? Kirsten, what's going on?"

"I got to his apartment and he was there and...he's not coming home, and he hates me, and..." She trailed off because she couldn't make out coherent words through her tears, and she just wanted him there to hold her and kiss her and promise her that he would make everything all right.

"Oh, honey..."

"I don't know what to do. He's...an entirely different person." Sandy, listening on the other end, was half furious at Seth for making Kirsten feel the way she was clearly feeling, and half miserable because he didn't want his son to be a different person. He liked the old one too much.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'll fly down. As soon as I can, okay?"

"No, it's...you don't have to do that. Ryan needs you more than I do."

"Ryan's okay," Sandy said. "We're just sightseeing. He won't mind—" he stopped himself and instantly realized what Kirsten was thinking. "He will mind. He won't tell us, but he will. He shouldn't get his vacation taken away from him just because Seth is asking for attention."

"God, Sandy, part of me hates him."

"The joys of parenting, huh?"

"I told him about the baby. I didn't mean to." Sandy was quiet for a moment.

"I think it's good that you told him. If he wants the independence of an adult we should treat him like an adult in all respects. Except, of course, in the respect in which you are going to physically drag him home by his ears."

"I don't know if I can see him again," she said quietly. "It hurts too much."

"No?" Sandy paused thoughtfully. "Okay, hon. You get the next flight back, we'll talk things over as a family, and we'll figure out something a little more organized."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Oh, sweetheart, no. You did the best you could. And you're the best representation of this family. I mean, Ryan can throw some good punches, and I may dispense a good lecture and charm people with my winning persona, but you? I know very few people who can say no to Kirsten Cohen. You've got that whole persuasive stare thing going on, and you're compassionate but firm, and that cute little nose of yours...oh, darling, I am powerless before that adorable nose." She couldn't help but laugh.

"Thanks, Sandy."

"Of course, hon. I love you."

"Love you, too."

"I'll see you soon?" She sighed, gripped the phone, dreaded hanging up and being left alone once again.

"Soon."

* * *

The night of her mother's wake she had escaped to the privacy of her childhood bedroom in order to cry tears that were not allowed to be shed in front of Newport's most meddlesome. She was alone maybe thirty seconds when the door creaked open, and she was about to tell whoever it was to leave her the hell alone when she saw that it was Seth. Six years old, he had handled this confusing and scary ordeal like a pro, spending the grim weeks finding ways to occupy his time. Sandy had been handling everything with Seth for the past month, and while Kirsten appreciated it more than she could ever tell her husband, Seth's appearance there at that very moment made her happier than she had been in months. He climbed onto her lap and asked her bluntly if she was going to die, too. She knew better than to promise him otherwise but assured him that it was very unlikely. He could handle that, she knew. He told her that he was sorry that she was sad, and then asked her to help him untie his tie. She had sat there, carefully loosening Sandy's messy handiwork 

"Are you sure you aren't going to die?" he asked as she unbuttoned his top button.

"I'll do my best," she promised.

"Me too," he said after a moment, and she thought it a very considerate undertaking for a six-year-old. She pulled him close and kissed the top of his head.

"You better," she said, smiling. "What would I ever do without my little Sethtacular?"

* * *

She had chosen the least offensive hotel, a few blocks away from Seth. She wasn't giving up, she decided. She couldn't, no matter how much he had changed. She was trying to sleep—unsuccessfully—when she heard a knock on the door. Getting up and shivering slightly in the air conditioning, she glanced through the peephole to see Seth, hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. He looked terrible—like he'd been crying, she thought.Sadness made him look years younger and suddenly she wasn't so afraid of him anymore.She pulled open the door. 

"Seth?" He stepped into her room, offering a guilty wave in her direction.

"Um, hey."

"How did you know where I was?"

"Most of the hotels around here are pretty scary, but this one is slightly less scary than the rest of them." She was delighted that he still knew her so well but her voice was cold as she replied.

"Well, good call. Come on in." He inched his way in and sat at the foot of the bed.

"Mom, I'm so sorry," he said quietly, scuffing the toe of his Converse against the rough carpet. "I can't even...I mean, for everything. All of it. I'm so incredibly sorry."

"Sweetie—"

"I got so scared," he said. "When you said the thing about...miscarrying, I just...it hit me how horribleit is. What I did.Inever thought about how you guys might feel, or...whatthat could do.I never meant to hurt you like that, Mom. I never meant to hurt you at all."

"I misspoke," she said quietly, sitting gently down next to him. "I was angry, Seth. I don't blame you for that."

"But you should. It's my fault. Everything you said was right. None of that would have happened if I hadn't left."

"Things happened for a combination of reasons. It wasn't just you."

"But I was a major contributing factor in—" She put a finger to her lips.

"Just come home with me, Seth." Finally, then, his façade broke down completely and he leaned against her, nodding, tears running down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry, Mom." She put her arm around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, not outwardly accepting his apology but letting him know that she loved him, always would love him.

"Oh, honey.We'll work everything out. I promise you we will." They sat for a few moments, Kirsten stroking his hair, and then Seth straightened, wiping his eyes.

"Hey Mom?"

"Hmm?"

"This is so ridiculously minty. Like, astronomically minty, and if anyone ever found out...I just really needed...oh, man. So minty."

"What is it, Seth?" He stared at the floor.

"Well, I thought you might be, um...well, Dad isn't here and I thought you might be sort of—actually, I'm the one who's kind of...it's just weird and...do you think I could sleep in your room tonight?" Her heart completely melted as suddenly Seth turned eight again and she smiled, feeling tears spring to her eyes.

"Of course you can, honey."


	28. As We Go Up, We Go Down

All right...back again! Hey, everyone. You guys are seriously the most phenomenal reviewers in the history of reviewing. It's insane. The people who took the time to read this whole story from start to finish? That's so flattering, I can't even stand it. You guys are awesome. ;) And PrincessOats? Your story wouldn't let me review your second most recent update, so I wanted to say that it was AWESOME and I absolutely loved it...and that I feel your graduation party pain. I have four siblings and my parents have these enormous gatherings every time one of us graduates from anything. My parents are very company-happy. They're like, "Hey, it's...um, July 15th. Let's have a party!" It's pretty intense. And, hey, don't belittle your Mormon stalker. I think self-mutilation is a lot creepier than being earless (unless she cut them off herself, I suppose.) As for VH1 and ice cream...I have no idea what you're talking about. That has never, EVER happened to me. :looks away: (By that I mean "Best Week Ever" is my life.)

Okay, guys. Here we go. 2 more chapters. Chapter 28's title belongs to Guided By Voices and chapter 29's"I Remember California" belongs to R.E.M. And, in an interesting twist...Summer gets her very own chapter. So hopefully you'll enjoy! ;) Please keep reviewing, I love it! ;)

xoxo

Chapter 28: As We Go Up, We Go Down

Watching him walk in front of her through the terminal filled her with the giddy pleasure that she had been experiencing ever since he'd come back to find her. Her son was alive and he still had a heart and he was coming home, where he belonged. He was a little taller, more filled out in his shoulders, and his hair was longer. That morning as they had been getting ready to leave she noticed his stubble—prominent, she realized, and an attempt at a goatee—and she made him shave before they left for the airport. He looked too old then, but now his wiry frame was ambling before her, shoulders tensed under the weight of his duffle bag, and he looked like a kid again. Suddenly he stopped and turned to her, panic very apparent on his face.

"So Dad's picking us up?" he asked for the fourteenth time.

"He is." She stepped out of the way so people could move around them. "Seth, calm down. He's so excited."

"But I...uh...I mean, Ryan's going to be there, too?"

"Probably," Kirsten said, giving him a reassuring smile. "He missed you, Seth. We all did. Everyone's going to be happy to see you."

"I'm not exactly the...model individual, though. Dad's so mad at me."

"Well, I was twice as angry as your father and I gave you a polite enough welcome, didn't I?" They both smiled. "Honey, we were furious, but we were more worried than anything. Now we're still furious, but we're relieved. We're delighted, and we have the rest of our lives to punish you and show you how angry we are. Right now? Your dad is going to be ecstatic. Loosen up. Just because you left for awhile doesn't mean that Sandy Cohen has lost his ability to act like a total nutcase." They exited the terminal and the second Sandy spotted them his eyes filled with tears—part excitement and part sadness over the fact that Seth was about three inches taller and appeared to have aged significantly. Kirsten stood back as Sandy and Seth paused for a moment before each other, awkward and uncertain. And suddenly Sandy didn't care what anyone anywhere thought and he threw his arms around Seth.

"Oh, kid, if you ever go anywhere again..."

"I'm sorry, Dad," Seth mumbled, his voice muffled by Sandy's shoulder. Sandy pulled away slightly and looked Seth in the eye.

"I'm serious. You try to go for a walk around the block? I'm behind you on a bike. You want to go for a sail? I'll be right next to you on a jet ski. And, God forbid, if you ever get on another plane, I will buy all of the seats surrounding you because you know how flying makes me nervous, and when I get nervous I talk, and I love to pace and talk at the same time."

"Well, hey, I should have a really easy transition into adulthood. College is going to be a blast." Seth laughed at the thought of dorming with his father and then watched as Sandy caught sight of Kirsten and got that familiar look on his face. He was obsessed, enamored, as he always had been, and he folded Kirsten in a hug and gave her a slow, gentle kiss that made Seth blush and turn away. "Um, okay. Public place. Extremely public place. Sensitive eyes are viewing this," he spoke up, unsure of whether or not he was still allowed to joke like this with them. His parents took a step away from each other, Kirsten looking embarrassed and Sandy proud.

"Technically, son, I am allowed to do whatever I want to get back at you for what you did," Sandy said. "So I suggest you watch yourself. Or, rather, watch me as I make out with your mother in the airport." He reached for Kirsten's head again but she ducked away, laughing.

"As romantic as you have made that sound...I think we should go get our luggage, hmm?"

"Later on, then," Sandy warned, furrowing his eyebrows at Seth. "I am going to get you _so_ good."

"Um, ew. Do I have any say in this?" Kirsten asked as they walked along.

"Sure, sweetheart. You can pick which public place, okay?" Sandy casually threw an arm around her and then one around Seth. "So. The Tremendous Trio is back together again."

"Come on, Dad. Tremendous Trio?" Seth scoffed.

"Then what happens to the Dynamic Duo?" Kirsten asked teasingly.

"Cynics. Both of you, so cynical," Sandy said, shaking his head. As they stood by the luggage cart a quiet settled over them, and suddenly the absence of the fourth member of their family was especially apparent.

"Where's Ryan?" Seth asked softly. Sandy made an abrupt leap for one of Kirsten's bags that had just appeared.

"You were gone for a weekend, sweetheart, not a year," Sandy said, grimacing under the weight of the suitcase.

"There are three more coming," Kirsten said apologetically.

"Um, hey. Obvious awkward question-avoiding contrivance, anyone?" Seth spoke up, and Sandy smiled.

"Sorry, kid. Ryan wanted to come, but he's working on a big project with Marissa."

"Oh." Seth looked significantly hurt, but nodded. "Cool. So they're still together?"

"Back together," Kirsten corrected. "After a long hiatus. Marissa was...in rehab."

"Rehab?" Seth looked surprised. "That sucks. Ryan must have...was he okay?" Kirsten was touched by Seth's uncharacteristic concern for the feelings of others and instinctively reached out to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Eventually," Sandy replied for both of them, going for Kirsten's second piece of luggage.

"That must have been weird," Seth considered quietly, almost to himself. "With both me and Marissa gone. Did he hang out with Summer at all? Or...does he have new friends?" Kirsten and Sandy quickly exchanged a look.

"You know, I don't even know," Kirsten said brightly. "He's been so busy with school lately. He hasn't been around much." Truthfully speaking, they both knew nearly everything about Ryan's life—more than they had ever known with Seth. Things were fantastic with Marissa, he was on the varsity soccer team, and he had steady As in all of his classes except AP statistics, in which he was pulling a B-minus because his teacher—in Kirsten's personal opinion—was a "worthless and mentally unstable asshole" who had been unpopular himself in high school and had come back to "have his revenge" on the Harbor students who weren't "bound to end up living in their parents' basements at age forty". Ryan worked four days a week after school at the Newport Group, trailing Kirsten to development sites and sitting in on negotiations, and he and Sandy played video games together on the weekends, and he had a car now—a black Jeep that they had presented him with on his eighteenth birthday. Kirsten suddenly felt immensely guilty for the unequal distribution of attention, though she knew it wasn't her fault.

"Oh. Okay."

"You guys will have to hang out," Sandy spoke up awkwardly. "I think we could probably lift your eternal grounding for one night." Seth nodded slowly.

"Cool. Thanks." Suddenly with the mention of their new life, their Seth-less life, the air between them became uncomfortable. It struck Kirsten that things were never going to go back to the way they were and she felt a heavy sadness come over her. Sandy had lunged for her fourth suitcase, and as he exhaustedly dropped it next to the other three, he glanced up at her.

"So, I guess we'll just wait for the others and then we can get out of here."

"The others?" Kirsten asked, confused.

"The other people that went to Pittsburgh with you? The ones that all of these clothes belong to? There must be about fifteen or so of them, huh?" She smiled weakly at his attempt at a joke and turned to Seth, who was clutching his duffle bag and backpack and staring blankly at the ground in front of him. "Ready to go, kid?" Sandy asked loudly, nudging one of the suitcases towards him. "Give me a hand, huh?"

"Sure," Seth mumbled, grabbing one of the suitcases. "Jesus, Mom."

"Sorry," Kirsten said once again, attempting to lift one herself and failing.

"We could get one of those little carts..." Sandy suggested, glancing around. "The ones that they use to drive old people around?" Kirsten laughed, grabbing his arm before he could hail one of the airport employees.

"Sandy, we are not getting one of those," she protested.

"Says the woman who doesn't actually have to carry any of the suitcases herself," Sandy replied, nudging her playfully.

"Forget about it. I got it," Seth spoke up, suddenly gruff, and grabbed another suitcase. He started off towards one of the exits and left his parents standing, baffled by his behavior. Sandy picked up the remaining bags and they started after him.

"Well, hey..." Sandy said quietly to Kirsten, attempting to cover up disappointment with humor. "Welcome back, kid."


	29. I Remember California

Okay. Here is Summer's very own chapter. Sorry it's pretty short. And the Chicago Lindsay has no relation to the Lindsay from the actual show. Also? The Fashion Club is from "Daria." I wasn't sure if that would make sense. If not...disregard it. All right. I hope you enjoy. Please read and review! ;)

xoxo

Chapter 29: I Remember California

Seth was back; Kirsten had called to tell her. Somehow, she thought as she sat in her new chemistry class in her hideous new private school uniform, that made things worse. When she had first heard she had nearly cried; Kirsten had sounded so excited and it was infectious. But now all she could think about was him shacked up with Anna for months and months while she worried about him—while everyone worried about him—and all she could feel was hatred. She drew her name in bubble letters on the cover of her notebook, avoiding looking around her at all of the weird Chicago private school randoms who she had, thus far, successfully avoided communicating with.

"As I'm sure everyone has noticed..." her teacher, a short, pathetic-looking woman in an unflattering cardigan, spoke up loudly, and Summer winced, hoping to fend off a public introduction by sending mental hate rays. She knew what was coming. "...we have a new student!" Ms. Landry sounded way too excited. "Summer, why don't you stand up and tell us a bit about yourself?" Summer shook her head, smiling tightly.

"That's okay."

"Oh. All right." The teacher smiled uncomfortably and Summer immediately realized that she was presenting herself as one of those strange kids who never talked to anyone and ate lunch alone in the bathroom. She would never find a Cohen replacement this way. She leapt from her chair.

"I'm Summer Roberts. I just moved here from Newport Beach. I like...shopping and...going to the beach?" She was suddenly at a loss for words, feeling shallow and small standing in front of twenty sets of judgmental eyes.

"Lovely," Ms. Landry said. "Welcome to our class, Miss Roberts."

"Thank you," she mumbled, sliding back into her seat. She sat staring into her lap for the remainder of the class period, and when the bell rang she quickly grabbed her stuff and realized that she actually didn't want to be in any hurry—she had lunch next period and this school had a closed campus, meaning that she either had to go down the aforementioned bathroom-floor path or face a cafeteria full of strangers. She took a deep breath and entered the large lunchroom, instinctively looking for a familiar face and feeling intensely disappointed when she didn't find one. She sauntered over to a cluster of vending machines, trying to kill time so she could observe the weird Chicago kids and find a suitable place to sit. When she decided that conspicuously glancing over her shoulder while she slowly, slowly slid her dollar into the slot and slowly, slowly pushed a button for a bottle of Evian was undoubtedly creepy, she abandoned her mission to make friends and opted for the bathroom floor. She was about to make a break for it when she felt a tap on her shoulder. There was a girl behind her—borderline cool, she summed up just by looking at her, not terribly pretty or well-adjusted, probably knew a fair amount of people but wasn't outstandingly popular.

"Hi, I'm Lindsay. We have chemistry together. Summer, right?"

"Oh. Yeah, hey." Truth be told, Summer wouldn't have recognized this girl from chemistry if her life depended on it, but she put on the smile that she usually employed at Newport gatherings full of strangers.

"Do you want to sit with us?" She gestured to a table of mousy-looking girls and Summer quickly scanned around the cafeteria again. These girls definitely weren't the Fashion Club, but there were lamer groups of people than them. She nodded slightly.

"Sure." She followed the girl to the table and gingerly sat down with her. She was greeted with a chorus of hellos to which she offered a small wave. "Thanks for letting me sit here." She hated this. Summer Roberts of Orange County never would have had to express gratitude for finding a lunch table. People would pay her to sit with them.

"She's from California," Lindsay explained loudly, and this information sparked some interest.

"Like LA?" one of them asked.

"Newport Beach."

"Do you know anyone famous?"

"Uh, no, not really. I saw Angelina Jolie at Fred Segal once," she offered.

"Do you surf?" another asked.

"Ew. No. I don't really like going in the ocean." She was losing them, she saw it. She had no celebrity ties or stereotypical western interests and they were becoming bored with her.

"Why'd you leave?" She knew that this was her chance to reel them back in, to begin her climb up the Alexander Lawrence High School social ladder. Her mind raced and she attempted to buy some time.

"What?" she feigned poor hearing in order to work on her answer.

"Why did you move here? Why did you leave California?" She looked around at the girls, each one of them halfheartedly focused on her, and she knew what she had to do. It was insulting to Kirsten and Sandy, insulting to anyone who cared about Seth, really, and it was particularly insulting to Seth. But she decided that she didn't give a damn about insulting Cohen and rationalized that Kirsten and Sandy would never find out that she had done this. She made her eyes large and sad, let out a little sigh.

"My boyfriend."

"He lives here?" She shook her head mournfully, eyes scanning over the line of girls for effectiveness.

"He died."


	30. Ugly Love

Oh, my god. Seriously? You guys are awesome. It's absurd and I love it. Thanks for all of the reviews; it's so cool to hear that you're liking this. Princess Oats? I am right there with you on the packing thing. My sister tries to help me minimize, but I just end up depositing the entire contents of my closet into my suitcases after she leaves. So I'm not really that productive, clearly. Aand...let's see. Ansy Pansy? Thanks for all seven of your reviews! It's so nice to hear that you like it. And I definitely believe that you didn't copy my story; please don't worry about it—you don't have to give me any credit, it was your idea too! ;) And everyone else—you guys are phenomenal. It's so awesome to hear all of your thoughts. Please keep it up! ;)

And now I have a question for you guys...is this overkill? Continuing on with this? Is it inanely long? I'm feeling like 30 chapters might be a bit much, and I'm not even done yet. So if you think I should tie up the loose ends quickly and end this before it becomes too long? Or do do you think it's okay for me to keep it going for awhile? I'm just not a very good judge of these things. Please let me know. ;)

Also, sorry it's been so long, especially after you guys were so awesome with the reviews. I've been on vacation, which sounds like a lame excuse but if you wanted you could feel bad for me...because it was pretty much torture because my family is, like, clinically insane and my mom kept trying to have these deep, psychological talks with me and is apparently now convinced that I have an eating disorder and social problems just because I'd rather watch "Laguna Beach" than eat dinner with my parents. But whatever. Now I'm back in action. ;)

All right, here goes nothing. "Ugly Love" belongs to the Eels. Please read and review! ;)

xoxo

Chapter 30: Ugly Love

The first thing Seth asked when they pulled into the driveway was who the new Jeep belonged to.

"That's...Ryan's, actually," Kirsten said hesitantly, making fleeting eye contact with Sandy.

"He got his own car?" Seth sounded surprised and hurt.

"I had a big case a couple of months ago..." Sandy explained weakly. "And with Marissa gone and your mom and I both busy with work, Ryan didn't really have a way of getting to school."

"I've been asking for a car since my sixteenth birthday," Seth said, and Kirsten couldn't help herself.

"Why didn't you just steal a credit card from your grandfather and buy yourself one?" A stony silence followed.

"Kirsten," Sandy finally said, his voice an odd combination of incredulity and soothing. She sighed.

"I'm sorry, Seth, I just—" Before she had a chance to finish he had clambered out of the backseat and was on his way inside. She turned helplessly to Sandy. "I didn't mean to do that." He gently took her hand.

"I know."

"Everything's different now," she said, clearly crushed by her revelation.

"I know," he repeated quietly. "He's a different kid. A...man, almost, save the moody teenage outbursts he keeps displaying." He took a deep breath then reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "We'd better get in there. We'll figure it out." She nodded slightly and they got out of the car together. They got inside just in time to catch the tail-end of an exchange between Ryan and Seth.

"Well...I've got...you know. Stuff," Ryan mumbled. He caught sight of Sandy and Kirsten and instantly brightened. "Hey, guys." He approached them and gave Kirsten a quick hug. "Welcome back." It struck her then that she hadn't seen him in over a week, what with their coinciding trips, and she returned the embrace, refreshed by how happy seeing him made her feel.

"Thanks, sweetie." When she pulled back she saw Seth watching them hollowly from across the kitchen and she offered him a smile, which he didn't return.

"I was just going to go do some homework," Ryan explained.

"Okay," Kirsten replied. "You'll have to tell me about New York, okay? Maybe later?"

"Yeah, definitely." He exited the kitchen towards the pool house, leaving the awkward three alone once again.

"So, are you hungry?" Kirsten asked Seth, her voice markedly cheerful.

"No. I'm gonna go put away my stuff."

"Okay, well if you get hungry..." Kirsten trailed off as she watched him storm up the stairs, ignoring her. "...we can order in," she finished off quietly. Sandy had pulled out his phone, was checking his voicemail. He patted her gently on the shoulder before heading into his office.

"We'll figure it out," he said again, and all she could do was shrug.

* * *

"Sandy showed me his apartment from when he was little..." 

"On Lake Street? The scene of my first fateful Sophie Cohen encounter." Kirsten was enjoying this—how animated Ryan was, how kind. How natural it felt to be with him, more than anything else. They were sitting together in the kitchen; Ryan had joined her when she had sat down to work on some floor plans. Suddenly Sandy was in the doorway, smiling at them. "Ryan was just telling me about New York," she explained, her means of inviting him into the conversation. Sandy bit, unable to resist an opportunity to talk.

"Did you tell her about the statue that was erected for me? Best New Yorker ever? Lost to the brutal clutches of Orange County..." Sandy sighed wistfully and Kirsten rolled her eyes. "Hey, so..." Sandy gave her a look that she recognized as the one he used when he had made a possibly controversial decision without first consulting her, part pleading and part defiant. "Seth and I are going to go get some dinner. Guys night out." He looked at Ryan and blushed. "Ah. Jews night out, I mean. You know the drill." Ryan didn't seem bothered, but Kirsten couldn't help but feel slightly hurt on both of their behalves.

"Okay." Both Sandy and Kirsten were aware that this action could be perceived as betrayal on Sandy's part—fraternization and possible reconciliation with the angry son—but neither one knew whether or not it was appropriate to acknowledge these feelings. Sandy cautiously approached her and leaned down to kiss her goodbye. She offered him her cheek and smiled vaguely. "Have fun." Sandy nodded, then hesitated.

"Ryan, you know...you're more than welcome to join us. We could ditch Kirsten and talk about the stuff that matters. Basketball and weight lifting and, uh, other...rugged...activities." He offered them both a lopsided smile and placed a hand gently on his wife's shoulder. She knew that he had won her over again, always knowing the right thing to say, and she reached up to take his hand in her own. They both looked at Ryan, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Thanks, Sandy, but that's okay. You guys probably have...a lot to catch up on."

"You sure?" Ryan nodded quickly.

"Positive. Maybe another time."

"Okay. Well...if you change your mind..." He knew that this was overkill but he figured too much inclusion was better than too little.

"Have fun," Ryan said encouragingly. Sandy nodded, clapped him on the shoulder, and started out of the kitchen.

"You guys, too." Kirsten watched him leave and it wasn't until he and Seth had left and she was alone with Ryan that she realized that he was really the only person in the family that she wanted to be around right now. She was angry at Seth. She wasn't angry at Sandy, just leery of him for reasons she herself wasn't sure of. But Ryan was spotless—kind and understanding and not overly talkative. They were quiet for a moment, and then Ryan spoke up softly.

"Are you all right?" She glanced up, almost surprised that someone was asking.

"Sure." She offered a meek smile.

"It's okay if you aren't," he said gently. This surprised her even more.

"I know." She left it at that, not wanting to burden him with her own issues. "Are _you_ all right?"

"I guess." She motioned for him to continue, and he sighed. "I just feel like I got too comfortable here. Like I...moved in on Seth's territory or something."

"Oh, honey, please don't take this as an opportunity to reconsider your position in this family. You never have to do that again, okay? You're just as much our son as Seth is." He paused, shook his head.

"But I'm not. That's the thing. He's always going to be yours and I'm always going to be...me. And you guys are...I mean, I couldn't ask for greater...parents. Uh, foster parents. But he's always going to be the real thing." Her face fell and he could tell that he had hurt her feelings without trying.

"Ryan..."

"It's just that I know that's why he's mad at me. Because he thinks I tried to take his place."

"He's mad at the world, Ryan. I wouldn't take much of what he's saying right now seriously." She realized how harsh she sounded and instantly felt angry with herself for talking about him like that. "I just mean that he needs some time to clear his head, that's all." Ryan nodded slowly.

"I'm happy to share my car with him." She smiled.

"I know you are." She felt sad, all of the sudden, and she tried to hide it, but her face clearly expressed her emotions.

"What's wrong?" Ryan asked, and she shrugged.

"Everything keeps changing."

"This family could use a break," he agreed, smirking. He paused, seemed to be considering something, then looked up at her. "I realize that we're speaking on a much larger scale and by a 'break' we're talking...just some normalcy. And that's going to take some work. Some time. But...for the meantime, have you ever played the ninja game?"

* * *

Several hours later, they were both still settled in front of the Playstation, Kirsten finally getting the hang of it. She was tired and slightly hazy from staring at the screen for hours, but she was having fun, loosening up. Ryan had never seen her so at-ease. They had ordered pizza and she had been so involved in the game that she hadn't bothered to question its nutritional value or take the time to meticulously rid it of all visible grease. 

"Fuck!" she yelped as Ryan's player stabbed her player in the stomach and it fell over, dead. She glanced up quickly, blushed. "Sorry." Ryan grinned, setting his controller down.

"I thought ladies didn't swear."

"They do when they get bludgeoned to death by ninjas." She sighed, watching as the screen flashed 'PLAYER 2 LOSES.' "I guess I won't be quitting my day job anytime soon."

"Hey, no. I think you've found your calling. You could definitely take Sandy, and he's been playing a hundred times as long as you." She opened her mouth to respond, but the front door opened and Seth and Sandy walked in. For a split second it was a face-off: Sandy and his brown-haired counterpart and Kirsten and her blonde, but then Sandy's face broke into a smile and he crossed over to her.

"Video games? I never thought I'd live to see the day!" Sandy sat down on the couch next to Kirsten and Ryan offered up his controller.

"She's good," he warned, and Kirsten blushed.

"All right, Seth. You'd better get in here and watch your parents battle it out," Sandy called to Seth, who was still standing in the foyer. Seth fought back a smile but grudgingly approached them, alerting Kirsten to the fact that he and Sandy had come to some sort of reconciliation over dinner. When Ryan saw Seth coming in he started to stand up, but Kirsten placed a hand firmly on his leg.

"I'd like both of you to witness my victory," she said. Seth smirked and sat down in a nearby chair and Ryan settled slightly. Their match ended ten minutes later when Kirsten's ninja struck Sandy's over the head with a sword. Sandy fell back against the couch, defeated.

"No way. I've been playing every weekend!" Kirsten, meanwhile, accepted high fives from both Seth and Ryan.

"I bet you'd be the first person to leave the Newport Group in order to pursue a life as a ninja," Ryan suggested.

"I suspect foul play," Sandy said, still pouting.

"You've robbed him of his manhood," Seth said to his mother. Kirsten laughed, standing up.

"Conquest is exhausting," she declared. "I'm going to bed."

"Same here," Sandy said, and Seth slowly nodded his agreement. Ryan opened his mouth to speak but seemed to change his mind.

"Hey, man," he said to Seth. "You feel like playing?" Both Kirsten and Sandy froze on their way up the stairs and watched. Seth paused, then smiled slightly and nodded.

"Yeah." Ryan looked mildly self-conscious as Seth sat next to him, but then he smiled as he picked up his controller.

"It's good to have you back, man." Seth nodded again, focusing on the screen.

"It's good to be back." Kirsten looked at Sandy and they both smiled, and then he placed a hand on her back and they continued upstairs together. When they got to their room he started to undress as she took out her earrings.

"That was nice," she remarked, and he nodded. She disappeared into her bathroom to change clothes and continued speaking. "I will never understand the friendships of teenage boys. With girls, there's backstabbing and silent treatments and just cruel, vengeful stuff, and then...emotional reconciliation. But boys just act surly for a couple of days and then do one of those mysterious handshakes and it's like nothing happened." She emerged and watched as Sandy, climbing into bed, nodded once again but said nothing. She studied him for a minute before climbing in next to him. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"I'm worried about Seth," he said. She couldn't help but feel slightly irritated.

"This from the man who assured me that everything would be fine and then took him out for some clandestine male bonding without giving me any explanation. Huh."

"Kirsten," he said testily, and she instantly regretted it.

"I'm sorry." He smiled tiredly at her and reached over to touch her face.

"I should have talked to you about it," he said. "I just wanted some time with him. I wanted to see if we had any shot at getting our old life back."

"What's the verdict?" she asked softly. He let out a bitter laugh.

"Who the hell was I to think that things could be normal again?"

"It's wishful thinking, but I'm sure all of us are doing it," she said kindly.

"He told me that he feels like we're this whole new family and he doesn't fit in."

"He's been home less than a day. He hasn't really given us a chance."

"But really. We bought Ryan that car...you guys are closer than ever. Seth doesn't fit in. Not in the family that we formed with the three of us."

"Are you saying this is my fault because I've gotten close with Ryan?"

"No. Of course not. It's just..."

"He left us, Sandy. Ryan shouldn't be punished for that."

"I'm not saying he should. I'm just saying that we need to make a lot of room for Seth in our lives."

"I'm not going to reward him for coming home," she said indignantly, and Sandy sighed.

"Come on, Kirsten. Nobody's asking you to. We just need to give him extra attention unless we want him to run away again."

"So he's just going to be able to hold that over us forever? We do whatever he wants or he'll abandon us again?"

"Don't make him sound so heartless!"

"He disappeared for a year, Sandy. If that's not heartless then what do you call it?"

"Scared. Confused. He didn't leave because of us, Kirsten."

"You know, I keep hearing that, but that's not the point. The point is his blatant disregard for our feelings. We gave him everything and he still—"

"This isn't about what we gave him, Kirsten! Buying him boats and video games was never going to change the fact that he was lonely and miserable enough to want to run away from home!" She sat still, stunned, feeling like he'd slapped her.

"I wasn't talking about money," she said in almost a whisper. Sandy blinked, opened his mouth to retract his statement, but nothing came out. "God, Sandy," she said, her voice rising in volume. "I was talking about attention. Compassion. The things that have always come first with Seth."

"Look, honey, I'm sorry. I misunderstood—"

"You're never going to be able to shake that image you have of me, are you? The insensitive rich girl who thinks that money can solve everything. It's easier for you to look at it that way because you come out on top. Yours gets to be the resonating voice of reason that fixes everything because your wife is too naïve to be taken seriously."

"You've got to be kidding me," he said, clearly angry. "You know, it's funny how all of these conversations end up being about money and yet you're the only one who ever brings it up. I've never accused you of being one-dimensional or—"

"You just did!" And then he was quiet because, to a degree, he had. "I'm going to the guest room," she said sullenly. She turned to leave, and he didn't stop her.


End file.
